


Fin Grohiik Kiir

by kutikue



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Abandonment, Assisted Suicide, Big-Bro-Brynjolf, Cultural Differences, F/M, Grelod is a monster, Haelga has a brothel, I blame you LetoaSai, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Making fun of game mechanics, Orphans, PTSD, Period-Typical Racism, Playing as I Write, Quest Names as Chapters, Racism, This got too big, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Sex, Video Game Mechanics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 46,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27513259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kutikue/pseuds/kutikue
Summary: Cloud's been at Honorhall Orphanage as long as he can remember. When Brynjolf offers him a way out, it changes his life dramatically. Not all changes are good ones, and the world outside of Riften's walls is a harsh one. Surviving changes Cloud slowly, and he's not always sure who he is anymore.
Relationships: Cloud Strife/Mallus Maccius, Cloud Strife/Muiri
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	1. Taking Care of Business

Taking Care of Business

Growing up in Riften was miserable for most anyone who wasn’t a Black-Briar, but even more so for those unfortunate enough to be in Honorhall Orphanage. Cloud couldn’t clearly remember a time before Grelod the Kind, when he and Asbjorn and Muiri had done their best to meet her expectations and still ended up chained and beaten, hungry and cold more often than not. Asbjorn had gotten lucky and been adopted by Balimund after making himself useful enough times and getting the kind man to warm up to him. Muiri had managed to run away successfully, and last he’d heard, from a letter sent to Balimund, she’d found a new family with Clan Shatter-Shield fostering her. He was happy his friends had managed to get out, but it left him alone and without friends, which was dangerous in a place like this. Kids wouldn’t share outside of their group, and it felt wrong to endanger Asb’s new life by mooching food from him and Balimund.

He’d run errands for people since he and Muiri had first figured out how to get through the courtyard wall with Asb as their booster. Getting back in had been harder, but Grelod’s new assistant, Constance, would let them back in the door when the older woman wasn’t looking, and never said a word about their escapades. Cloud was fairly certain Constance had been an orphan here, and couldn’t fathom why she stayed. He was almost fourteen now, and had been casually eying the Imperial Legion as a way to escape. The idea of fighting the Aldmeri Dominion in some far off war and possibly dying scared him half to death, but staying here until he was an ‘adult’ didn’t seem like an option. Grelod was getting meaner as she aged.

His chance came one night as he was crouching near Haelga’s bunkhouse, gnawing on a hunk of bread that Svana had snuck out to him through a window while no one was looking. She was kind to all the orphans, and helped where she could. She understood all too well with how her aunt used her as a slave- what it meant to be cold and hungry. 

A boy a bit older than he was, who he vaguely remembered as having been in the orphanage when he was very young, approached him. Cloud tried to be discreet about reaching for the rock on the ground next to him, prepared to defend himself and his meal. It got a laugh out of Brynjolf.

“Relax lad, i’ve no interest in such a megear score. Certainly not enough to warrant fighting over it.” Wincing at being caught so easily, Cloud dropped the rock. Brynjolf sat down close enough to pass a half-empty bottle of mead but far away enough not to make the other orphan bolt. “I’ve been watching you...you're a clever one, aren’t you?”   
  
“Not clever enough.” Cloud muttered, resentful of his lot in life. The mead warmed his belly, and pinked his cheeks.

“What would you say if I had a job for you...steady employment, perhaps?”   
  
“I’d say it depends on the work.” Haelga had offered him ‘work’ of a nature he wasn’t desperate enough to accept, Dibella be damned.

“I could use someone like you. Small, steady hands, and fast.” It was the wrong thing to say, but the Nord quickly backpedaled “Not like  _ that _ \- I wouldn’t try to poach on Haelga’s territory even if I was interested in a toss. I’m talking about a bit of diversion. Nothing too dangerous, just a distraction here, a scam there.”

Cloud didn’t take him up on the offer right away. Stealing was...wrong. And the thought of Grelod’s reaction if he got caught made his stomach hot, fear closed his throat. Sure he’d learned how to sneak decently, getting away from the orphanage for even a few hours required the skill, but this? Brynjolf shrugged off his initial response “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Three weeks and a night being shackled in Grelod’s ‘special room’ was enough to change his mind. Doing what was ‘right’ wasn’t keeping him warm at night, or filling his belly. The marketplace was lively this time of day, and under Brynjolf’s guidance he managed to pocket a few small things. “Glad to see you’ve finally come to your senses. Ready to make some coin? Lets go see Tonilia and see what Vekel has on the menu tonight.” Cloud was far more interested in the potential for a hot meal then having something on his person as easy to steal as gold.

The rataway was dank, dark and stank worse then Grelod’s ‘special room’. But the Cistern wasn’t terrible. “Isn’t that-”

“The well in the marketplace? Yep.” It blew his mind. “Try to keep out of it unless you have a bucket or something; we don’t want the guards coming down to check on the drinking water.”

“Stay outta trouble, or theres gonna be trouble.” An intimidating voice from the shadows made Cloud jump. Brynjolf couldn’t quite convince him Dirge had already been there.

Tonilia didn’t give him the best rate, but Cloud hadn’t been expecting it. She muttered something to Brynjolf about how he was just a guttersnipe not a member, and it made him wonder if she had been under Grelod’s care at some point too. Still, nineteen gold was enough for Vekel to give him bread and chicken. The fresh-cooked ingredients made a nice sandwich, and Brynjolf shared his mead again, though Cloud only had a little. Being drunk wasn’t something he was fond of.

A few weeks later, with only a few close calls and he was starting to think maybe his new friend was right and he did have a knack for this sort of thing. Vex had been eyeing him the last few visits and it made him nervous when one night after dinner Bryn offered him a job. Like, his own job, not just assisting or something petty around town that he’d been keeping to himself about.

“You’ve proven yourself to be reliable. So, now that i’ve whetted your appetite, how about handling a few deadbeats for me?” To say Cloud was hesitant was putting it mildly. Hadn’t Bryn wanted him for being small and discreet? Maybe go grab Dirge if he wanted some muscle to kick someone around.

“I want you to explain to them the error of their ways.” He...didn’t exactly have a honeyed tongue, but he might be able to handle that. Even if he doubted that anyone would take a kid like him seriously, he could at least try. “Honestly, the debt is secondary here. What’s more important is that you get the message across that we aren’t to be ignored.” 

Keerava was easy. He’d overheard her talking about her family to Talan-Jei. And Cloud remembers everything he overhears; information sells well. “I already told that buffoon that I'm not paying you people a single coin.” She’d told him condescendingly. He...didn’t like her tone when she talked about Brynjolf that way and icily replied to her “Maybe I should visit that Farm in Morrowind.”

Her eyes had gone wider then he knew was possible, even for an Argonian “How could you possibly know about...Please. My family means too much to me. Don’t hurt them.”

He almost felt bad. Almost.

“Here. Take this back to Brynjolf and tell him he’ll have no more trouble from me.” The coins felt heavy in his hidden pocket; he’d never had so much on him. It...made him nervous. Should he head back now, and offload before seeing the other two? But...no. It was a lot for someone like him, but ‘normal’ people often held a lot more. He needed to show what he was made of. Going back and forth and doing the job in pieces wouldn’t prove himself, he’d just look weak.

Haelga felt cathartic. He hated her, had for a long time. And not just for Svana, but the way she eyed kids like him. Like they were pieces of meat to be sold to her customers. Bringing up Brynjlf surprised her only a little, clearly she’d thought he had something else to discuss with her “What does he want now? I already explained to him that you can’t get blood from a stone.” Hearing her say that was almost funny...considering those little stones she handed out as tokens of Dibella certainly would fetch a fair price. “This isn’t about money anymore.”

“Look, I can’t make the coin appear out of thin air, Please, be reasonable. I’ll...I’ll pay next month.” Haelga asking for someone to be reasonable...with how she treated her tennents and Svana? He snapped a little “We’ve run out of patience.”

“And so have I. What’s the point of paying anyway? Your outfit can’t even fend for itself. I could do better tossing the coin in the sewer-” He tuned out the rest of it, even as she raised her voice to yell at his back. Her statue was on display just around the corner- that would make her shut up. He hefted it with a small amount of effort...surely this would pay off the debt.

“So, should I drop this statue down a well?” It would send the thing straight to the tavern, not that she had any way of knowing that. “Not Lady Dibella! No, please! I can’t lose her! I get the message. Here, take your gold. I hope you choke on it!”

Entering the Pawned Prawn made him nervous. He’d tried to sell a few things he’d managed to gather or been paid with before, and always gotten a raw deal, as well as serious questions about how he’d gotten the things. And he hadn’t even been a thief back then, just a poor orphan! Bersi barely glanced at him, probably assuming Cloud was there to try to make a little coin. He wasn’t entirely wrong...just that it wasn’t coin he was making, today he was taking “I have a message from Brynjolf.”

“So, Brynjolf doesn’t even bother to show up himself anymore, eh? Whats this message?” Cloud decided next time he got a job like this, he’d try to practice some lines before going to his targets. The way Bersi scoffed at him said all too well how unseriously he was being taken. “You people are all talk, and everyone knows it! Pay to protect me? You can’t even protect yourselves! It's only a matter of time before you people are run out of Riften.”

Run out of-...you people? The anger was unexpected. People like him-people like him? The ones who never had a chance, who grew up without two septims to rub together and spent every night cold and hungry- and they’d be run out just for taking the work they could?! The urge to hit something was so overwhelming, he spun around quickly and picked an item at random, knowing he could never take on the adult in front of him. The crash was loud, and silence hung for a moment before he heard the distress coming off of the Nord behind him “No! That urn was priceless!”

“Want me to break anything else?” He was still so, so angry, he truly meant the threat. Bersi must have seen it written all over his face “All right! I get it. I’ll pay on time from now on. Just don’t smash anything else. Here, take your gold and leave me in peace.”

300 gold in his pocket...more then he’d probably had on him in his entire life up until now. He could- no. This wasn’t his job, he needed to bring this back to Brynjolf.

He took the quickest route back, trying not to draw any attention to himself. An ability he’d gotten pretty good at over the years, but he was nervous today. Getting underground had never felt like such a relief. He nodded at Dirge carefully when he got back, who returned the motion. He’d been down here often enough that it was accepted by now, even if Bryn wasn’t by his side.

He slid into a chair at the table his friend was at, whose smile could only be called smug. Bryn poured into the empty mug in front of Cloud, and they both had a drink. He was begrudgingly getting used to mead, and it was often cleaner than the water. Besides, he could use the calories.

“So, jobs done and you even brought the gold. Best of all you did it clean. I like that.” Cloud tilted his head to the side...was anything else even an option? He was barely a teenager, but looked closer to ten due to his small size and how he’d grown up. How could he reasonably knife someone?

“Dumping bodies and keeping the guards quiet can be expensive.” Cloud nodded and pulled the purse in his pocket out, hand trembling slightly at handing over so much gold “Here’s what they owed us.” Could he even say ‘us’?

“Well done. And it would seem I owe you something in return.” He passed over a few potions. Cloud doubted he’d have much use of them, but he could always sell them to Elgrim and Hafjorg. They never questioned where potions came from, and paid fair. Well, Hafjorg did, and she was usually the one at the counter.

“So...whats next?”

“Judging from how well you handled those shopkeepers, and your past assistance, I’d say you’ve done more than simply prove yourself. What say you to joining our little outfit?” CLoud hummed and sipped on his mead. He’d...been considering it already. His misgivings about stealing had evaporated almost instantly; he was treated like a person here. Ate well, and even had a little coin in his pocket to do with as he pleased. Joining wouldn’t just mean a job; it would be somewhere to sleep. He could leave the orphanage for good, instead of having to crawl back and hope he hadn’t been noticed. “...something I have to ask first.”   
“What's on your mind?” Cloud’s eavesdropping had given him some concerns. He’d been hearing for years that the ‘guild’ wasn’t doing well. That it was essentially on the verge of collapse. Bryn shrugged, he’d been expecting this sooner or later.

“We’ve run into a tough patch lately, but it’s nothing to be concerned about. Tell you what, you keep making us coin and i’ll worry about everything else. Fair enough?” Yeah, that suited him just fine.

“Now if there are no more questions, how about following me and i’ll show you what we’re all about.” Cloud hadn’t realized that the tavern was just a hub, that there was so very much more to the guild. He’d later realize how naive he’d been, but he was barely more than a child, who could blame him? The biggest surprise was finding out Brynjolf was basically the second in command...and he’d taken a risk on someone like Cloud? When asked later, Bryn would tell Cloud that he’d seen something in his eyes, and knew what Grelod was like. He’d thought the risk was minimal.

Cloud was grateful he’d taken the chance.


	2. Novice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud's a member of the Guild now. Time to learn.

Novice

“Let me show you the operation. Then you can ask your questions.” The hidden wardrobe with a secret back panel blew Cloud’s little mind. It...was a door?! The fact that it was brightly lit in the Cistern similarly puzzled him. There was plenty of light coming from outside, even with how far underground they were. It was also warmer then he’d been expecting, and he figured that the small cooking stations he could just make out were the main culprit. It was spacious, and the beds weren’t crammed together like at the orphanage. He could get used to this.

Mercer Frey wasn’t like Brynjolf. He was intimidating as hell, and Cloud never wanted to be on his bad side. “Mercer? This is the one I was talking about...our new recruit.”

“He better not be another waste of the Guild’s resources, Brynjolf.” He turned judgmental eyes to Cloud, his voice anything but welcoming “Before we continue, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. If you play by the rules, you walk away rich. You break the rules and you lose your share. No debates, no discussions… you do what we say, when we say. Do I make myself clear?” By the nine, he sounded like Grelod. Cloud couldn’t help the next words that tumbled out of his mouth, even if he regretted sounding so disobedient.  
“Rules? We’re thieves. WHat’s the point of rules?” Yeah, no...never again. Mercer’s eyes scared him.  
“I’ll let that comment go because your new here. Ask things out of turn again, and we have a problem. Now, are we clear on all of this?” ...he’d save questions for Bryn. Maybe Vekel.  
“Yes, I understand.” It seemed talking to him like he would to Grelod was the right call.  
“Good.”  
“Mercer, aren’t you forgetting something?” Brynjolf cut in amicably, as if the way Mercer spoke and held himself wasn’t anything he was concerned with.  
“Hmm? Oh, yes. Since Brynjolf assures me you’ll be nothing but a benefit to us, then your in. Welcome to the Thieves Guild.” Bryn took over as their leader walked away.  
“Welcome to the family lad. I’m expecting you to make us a lot of coin, so don’t disappoint me.”  
“So, how do I get my cut?”  
“Simple. Do as you're told and keep your blade clean. We can’t turn a profit by killing. You should talk with Devin Mallory and Vex. They know their way around this place and they’ll be able to kick some extra jobs your way. Oh, and talk with Tonilia in the Flagon... she’ll set you up with your new armor. Cloud didn’t even have a blade to keep clean, so he doubted that that would be an issue. The idea of armor had his interest; it would be a lot warmer and more durable then his clothes that had clearly seen better days. On his way back to the Flagon, he was stopped by someone who wanted to introduce themselves. “You ever want to talk about anything, you let me know. Vipir the Fleet was nice enough that Cloud took a few minutes. If he was part of this ‘family’ now, he should probably know a bit about all of them. “So how did you earn your name?” He couldn’t hide his surprise that he’d apparently run from Windhelm all the way to Riften. “That’s an incredible distance to run.” That he’d forgotten about their horses had him chuckling lightly, even as Vipir requested that Cloud keep to himself the little story. He also offered Cloud pickpocket training, which he promised to come back for. He had little to no skill himself, and he was sure he’d need that down the line.  
Brynjolf waved at him near the hallway and motioned to a bed just to the left of the entryway to the Flagon “This one is yours. You don’t have to worry about the chest. Mercer mentioned rules earlier, and the three you can’t break are our tennents. Never steal from another member of the guild. Never kill while on the job. Never steal from the poor. And take a look at the book on the end table, you’ll want to familiarize yourself with Shadowmarks.” Cloud nodded, figuring he’d take the time once he’d finished with his other tasks. The idea that he already had more, here then he’d ever had in his entire life was a bit overwhelming. His own space, and no need to worry about others taking what was his? It was hard to believe.  
He went to say hi to Tonilia first. It was usually a good indicator of her mood when she was sitting at the bar with her tankard. He’d already known she was their fance, but apparently now he’d get a better rate since he was one of them. Her snark was more bite than bark, but he didn’t really mind. She was fair enough, and he could only imagine people had tried to burn her before based on some of the threats he’d heard. “At the end of the day, you’ll find all we care about is how much gold you can make us.”  
“Understood.” That much at least made perfect sense to him.  
“Here’s your armor, just make sure you put it to good use.” He changed, surprised that while it was more weight then he was used to, it didn’t feel too terribly heavy. When Tonilia found out he didn’t even own a dagger, showed him what she had on hand. Passing over 27 gold, enough for two meals! Hurt a little bit, but not as much as trying to punch out a skeever might. “You should get a real weapon too, once you have the coin. The blacksmith in town makes decent steel.”  
He was well aware...and Asbjorn could help him save a bit of coin there too. “I thought we weren’t supposed to kill on a job?”  
“There’s wolves and worse on the road. Innate Breaton magic or not, you're gonna want to be able to defend yourself. And being in the Guild doesn’t necessarily make you off limits to bandits.”  
He felt like a bit of an idiot; he should have realized...no matter. He’d get a few jobs under his belt and get himself equipped. “You know how to use those picks? Talk to Vex, she’s not just handy with them, she’s a fair teacher too. Long as you don’t piss her off too bad.”  
Vex took in his new armor when he approached, and her tone went no-nonsense.  
“Before we begin, I want to make two things perfectly clear. One, I'm the best infiltrator this rathole of a Guild’s got, so if you think you’re here to replace me, you’re dead wrong. And two, you follow my lead and do exactly as I say...no questions, no excuses.” He stood at an imitation of at attention he’d had drilled into him since childhood and gave an enthusiastic, if intimidated “Yes, ma’am.”  
“Then we understand each other...good. Now, it's time to get your feet wet and I don’t want to waste a lot of time talking about anything but business.” She gave him the run through on the jobs she offered: burglary, shill, sweep and heist. Breaking and entering sounded like a good way to get started. “And besides myself, Delvin, Niruin and Vipir can help you with any sort of training you might need to sharpen your skills.”   
“Um, yeah, about that...Tonilia said you could teach me the basics?” He held up his new tools. Vex scoffed. “I can teach you a lot more than the basics. But yeah, we’ll start there. Niruin’s got some practice locks, chests in a room off of the cistern. Give those a try if you really want good practice. He accepted a burglary job afterwards, and then headed over to properly introduce himself to Delvin. It was nice to have another Breton to talk to, he’d mostly only been around Nords, Imperials and Argonians.  
“Brynjolf, huh? Lemme guess. He plucked you off the street.” Was it so obvious? Cloud mostly ignored the stuff about the ‘curse’, he didn’t believe in superstition. But he paid plenty of attention to the fact that Devin could offer him sneak lessons and gave fishin’, number and bedlam jobs. “So...pickpocketing, book fixing and city-ransacking?” He’d need to brush up a bit on his writing, he was only semi-literate. He took the bedlam job for now, adding to his mental to-do list. He’d need to get a journal or something later, to make sure he didn’t forget anything important. Since he’d already talked to three of the ‘trainers’, he made a point of stopping by to meet Niruin. The wood elf had a long interesting story for how he’d come to the guild, though Cloud couldn’t imagine living such a life of leisure and privilege behind. The yearning for more, wanting to feel alive? More so. He offered to teach Cloud the basics of archery; good for hunting and causing distractions if Cloud wasn’t inclined to use it in combat. He accepted, and they planned on having his first lesson in the next few days, once he’d gotten his feet underneath himself and finished the work he’d already accepted from Vex and Delvin.  
He’d scarcely turned around when a voice called out “Hey, hey! I wanna talk to you...now.” Thrynn was standing over a cookpot. He would end up being the one to introduce Cloud to cooking “Can’t be throwing Vekel gold every night; save that for the booze. Every man should know how to make his own dinner, and you’ll need the skill on the road.” Hearing about the bandit clan the Nord had been with was a good story, and Cloud couldn’t help admiring the man. They may have been thieves, but they had rules, morals. It was better than he’d hoped for.  
He ended up eating a hunk of weirdly seasoned beef while he read Shadowmarks, which was apparently written by Delvin. He seared the images into his brain, sure he had the most important ones memorized before falling asleep.

His first burglary job was in Windhelm. He was beyond grateful for his new boots. He thought he knew what cold was before, but this was a whole new level. He’d only packed a few necessities, sure he’d need room in his bag for the jeweled flagon that had been described to him. Having a dagger on his hip made him feel safer, even if he only had a vague idea how to use it. Just...slash and stab, right? And if he stuck to the path, he should be fine...he hoped. Setting off at six thirty might have been a little bit of a late start, but being outside the city again felt nice. He’d only dared to go outside the walls so many times before, and the openness of the world put a sense of peace in him. Old Fort Greenwall had a few less than savory types hanging around. He kept to himself, and they either didn’t notice him or ignored him. Either way, it suited him just fine. Less than an hour later, he was passing through Shor’s Stone, and feeling like he’d been worried for nothing. Traveling wasn’t so bad, and he’d even been able to pick a few mountain flowers on the path while he walked. They weren’t worth much on their own, but if he got a nice bundle together, an apothecary would be happy to trade him a little gold, and that should pay for a night at an inn if he wasn’t able to finish the job on his first day.

He was leaning down to grab another thistle when he heard a noise, and sure enough...a wolf. He grabbed his dagger and tried not to panic, using the innate magic every Breton was born with   
To summon a familiar. The heavy drain almost hurt; it took nearly every ounce of magic he had. But the spectral wolf threw itself at the danger while he approached from behind and swung his weapon the way he’d seen guards do with their swords, hoping it would be enough. He almost dropped his dagger, arm feeling a bit numb. Maybe he should just slash instead of trying to chop through instead. They managed, somehow, and Cloud reached out to pat his ghostly companion on the head, sure he’d need the help a lot in the future “Thanks…”  
Around the bend, he found a mostly dead elk that the wolf must have been at before Cloud stumbled alone. He put it out of its misery, and then took the time to take both the animal's hides, as well as the venison and antlers. Having something to trade would be a good enough reason to give to the guards to enter the city, and he could cook the venison for lunch later. He’d need to get some salt next time he came across a trader; it had been the first thing Thyrnn had instilled in him, the need for salt in cooking most anything.

He jogged lightly after that in an attempt to build his stamina. The idea that Vipir had run the whole way had him envious, he had to stop often to catch his breath. He tried to time it so that he could pick a few flowers when he did, telling himself he was training and being productive. A skeever ran across the road in front of him, and he didn’t think twice before taking it out. That much he’d had practice with, even if he’d never had weapons. The vermin were common in the lower levels of town. He barely even felt the bites thanks to his new armor, and drank one of the potions Brynjolf had paid him with to chase away the sting.

He ignored the goats on the mountainside as he traveled gradually downhill. They were just minding their own business, and the horns looked like they could do some serious damage. AT a fork in the path, he glanced downhill to the right, the quickest way to Windhelm..and saw more wolves. Well, taking a longer route would mean more chances to encounter even more wolves, so he might as well...besides, he wasn’t alone. He could use magic to send in his familiar, maybe try to help it out more this time while it distracted their opponents. It went almost perfectly, and the next set of wolves he saw were attacking one of the numerous goats. He miscalculated a bit, and ended up getting a little hurt by that set, but not too badly. He promised himself he’d take those archery lessons seriously when he got back, being able to attack from a safe vantage point while his summon did most of the work sounded like the best bet for him.

Cloud was having second thoughts about not having hired a carriage when he got a hard dose of reality. Passing by Steamcrag Camp, he saw a destroyed carriage, and he could smell the dead horse and Kajiit before he saw them. Still...he couldn’t not make sure…  
The cat ahad a steel greatsword on him, and something about the weapon...he took it. It wouldn’t do the dead cat any good anyways. He left the armor, it looked too heavy for him, and he didn’t quite have the stomach to strip the dead. The chest on the wagon had an adept lock, and was a good way for him to practice with the lockpicks Tonilia had supplied with his armor. He only broke two before the lock clicked open, and there was a nice little bag of gold inside, 63 pieces was nothing to scoff at. If nothing else, he could use it to hire a carriage back; he didn’t fancy the thought of killing another eight wolves after a job. The rest of the carriage was mostly books, though he did find a cabbage, healing potion that he drank on the spot, and a silver sapphire necklace that he was sure Tonilia would be happy to take off of his hands. Venison and cabbage stew sounded divine, and he was looking forward to that meal. Honeycomb and tomatoes he pocketed, sure he could sell them easily if he didn’t add the vegetables to his stew.

He kept a wary eye on the mammoth nearby, sure its giant had to be there too. He’d never outrun them, but if he stayed far away enough, he should be fine...probably. He’d barely gotten back on the road before he saw another traveler, a farmer whose concern of if Cloud was feeling alright was downright touching. He...was feeling a bit unwell, but he’d thought it was just nerves. Had one of those wolf or skeever bites gotten him sick? He’d have to check with a temple worker once he made it to Windhelm. He tried to gently brush off the man’s concern, but it was forgotten a moment later as a wolf charged them. They’d only just managed to kill it off when Cloud glanced up and all color left his face...a giant was walking nearby with two of his mammoths. Oh fuck fuck fuckity fuck.  
The farmer walked normally, and Cloud tried to copy his lead...even as they passed less than twenty feet from the danger. “It's fine...we aren’t approaching one of their camps, and don’t have weapons drawn. Giants rarely bother people who aren’t causing them trouble.”  
That didn’t jive with the stories he’d grown up with, and the ground shook every time the trio took a step. He’d never been so scared in his life.

Just past noon and on the outskirts of Kynesgrove, they came across a local legend; Talsgar the Wanderer, who happily offered to sing...for 25 gold. Cloud couldn’t help balking at the price. Talsgar laughed softly, and recommended the Bard’s College in Solitude if Cloud ever fancied learning to sing for his supper. He doubted he could ever afford college, not to mention he didn’t think he had a Bard’s voice, but thanked him for saying that nonetheless. It was a kind thought. “What are you doing out here?”  
“Observing and capturing the epic struggle that is Skyrim! Surely there is a song to be found.” He...didn’t think that was how songs worked but what did he know? He wasn’t educated in the art.

The Braidwood Inn of Kynesgrove was the perfect place to stop. Windhelm might have just been a little ways off now, but seven hours had him feeling more than a little tired, and rather hungry. He bought Roggi a mead while he was buying salt at the inkeep’s plea. He was still conditioned to take the odd jobs as they appeared, and innkeeps were good people to impress. He stopped by the mine to meet the Nord. It looked like all the miners were on a break, so he didn’t have to go too deep into the mine. “Iddra wants you to forget about all that coin you owe.”  
“What do you think I am, a beggar? My family has always paid back every single coin we owed, going back to Tiber Septim’s time!” Maybe he’d been too blunt…He didn’t have a way with words, but he did still have that other potion Brynjolf had given him.“Stop being stubborn. Let it go.” The Nord sighed  
“I guess you’re right. A Nord shouldn’t be so proud to turn down a kind soul’s generosity. Tell Iddra I’ll be fine.”

“Roggi won’t be complaining anymore.” Predictably, Iddra was happy to hear it, and surprisingly handed over some of the things Roggi had pawned to her back when he’d still been trying to pay for hsi mead. Cloud had no idea what to do with a shield, and the battleaxe didn’t quite hold the same appeal the greatsword had, but he could offload them in Windhelm easily enough. Cooking would take a while, so he bought a simple meal of grilled leeks and salmon steak from Iddra instead. The meat would be fine for a while yet now that he’d salted it, and really...stew would be too heavy when he still had more walking and a job to do. He’d save it for dinner, hopefully at the inn.

He palmed a couple of chicken eggs on his way out of the town when no one was looking. It was good practice...and he loved eggs. A Kajiit caravan had set up camp just outside the city stables, and Cloud stopped by. He...had to check to see if the wagon he’d encountered earlier was one of theirs. To at least let them know. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a dead body, the outskirts of town often had someone who hadn’t made it through a bad night, or who had decided to drink enough skooma to never wake up again. But something about how that Kahjiit had clearly been part of a group, and left behind? Didn’t sit well with him.  
Ma’dran knew nothing, but thanked Cloud for bringing the information “Too many do not wish to speak to us. Come, take a look at my wares.” Cloud offloaded most of his pack with them. It was easier than going to regular shops, where guttersnipes like him were questioned on how they’d managed to have anything. He took moonsugar instead of gold for most of it; he’d be able to get a good price for it back in Riften, and having a heavy purse made him uneasy. “May the sun keep you warm, even in this land of bitter cold.” He looked forward to seeing them again, they were oddly kind.

The bridge into the city proper taught him what vertigo really was...it was such a very, very long way down, even the short walls keeping it mostly out of view didn’t do much to help. The city’s main gate was massive and intimidating with the open mouths of what looked to be hawks decorating it. The guards hardly glanced at him, he was clearly no threat. His first step into the city was to a small show of two local Nords giving a Dark Elf a bad time...for being a Dark Elf? Hardly surprising, racism was rampant in most of the country. But this blatant, in the middle of the day? He’d better keep his head down., it seemed like they hated any non-Nords.

A beggar nearby caught his eye, and he slipped her a little gold. Silda the Unseen called for the Divines to “Bless his kind heart.” It made him feel warm inside, being able to help. She took another look at his armor, and offered to teach him...for a fee. He promised to stop by again, when he could better afford it and had more time. “Up to no good, are you? All right then.” They chatted for a moment, and when he asked about notable people in the city, got a general idea of where to look for his mark’s house. He thanked her again and pressed a little more gold into her hand; he remembered how it worked. He used to be paid for information.

There weren’t any guards around, and when he cautiously, gently tried the door...it was locked. Most people didn’t bother to lock up when they were home unless they were asleep, and it wasn’t quite five in the evening just yet. His odds seemed decent. Heart racing, he kept a careful eye and ear out as he worked the tools he wasn’t quite familiar with, heart pounding a little too loudly. He only broke one lockpick this time, and made sure to pocket that one to not leave any evidence behind. The inside of the house was...nice. Spacious, and a little bare, but warm. Comforting. He burned with a little bit of jealousy...that some people got to live like this while the rest-...no. he’d think about it later, when the job was done. He pocketed a few small things while he looked around for his target, amazed that it could really be this easy. Really, who just left gold laying out like that? There were a lot of skulls, weapons and armor...this Brunwulf Free-Winter must have had quite the life. He found his prize quickly, a jeweled flagon, and double checked for any other easy things he could take quickly. It had almost been half an hour, he didn’t want to push his luck.  
Leaving the house, there wasn’t a person in sight. He wondered if he was just lucky, or if Vex had kindly given him an easy job to start out with. He caught sight of a shadowmark near the steps as he was leaving. Huh...loot indeed. If he left now, he’d be lucky to be back in riften by midnight...and the road would only be more dangerous at night, he was sure of it. Might as well look around the town while he was here.  
The temple of Talos was first on his list. The Farmer’s words about him not looking well had taken root, and he was feeling...uncoordinated. Walking felt a bit off, but that could be because he’d traveled so far today? Lortheim took one look at him “...Ataxia. A simple enough ailment, praying at the shrine will cure you.” Cloud wasn’t particularly devote, but he knew the ritual. He spent a little time at Kynareth’s altars when he could, supposedly his mother had named him in the divine’s honor. Silda asking for him to be blessed might have been enough to sway the gods to hear him and heal the ailment...if not, he’d grab a potion. It would be a little spendy, but he still had the flowers he’d gathered on the road. It might be enough to barter with the apothecary enough for a remedy.

He was almost surprised at how quickly he felt better. Maybe he should pay a bit more attention to the gods...well, some of them. He’d never be interested in Dibella after Haelga’s influence. Still, there weren’t shrines everywhere, and having a potion or two on hand could make a difference down the line. He’d learned that already in Kynesgrove. The White Phile was clean, and he decided he preferred shops that weren’t at water level. The lack of mustiness was wonderful. Nurelion was just as cranky as Elgrim, and Cloud wondered if that was just a trait alchemists had. Still, he was...mostly fair with his prices. Cloud tried not to balk at the price of a single potion of cure disease...205 was. Well, he could nearly live for a month off of that. Quintus Navale, his apprentice, suggested Cloud try mixing a few potions to exchange with the elf. But Cloud didn’t know the first thing about alchemy...and now really didn’t seem like the time to learn. So, he sold his flowers, and left with a mere 39 gold in his pocket...it wasn’t terrible, he had enough for the Inn, he hoped, and had dinner already figured out. He’d just have to hope he’d get paid on delivery with Devin.

Candelhearth Hall was welcoming. Blessedly warm after the bitter cold outside, and Elda was happy to show him to his room when he paid up front. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need.”  
“Um, is there a cookstove available?” She wasn’t best pleased with the question, no doubt having thought she could make a bit of gold off of his dinner, but pointed him in the direction of the kitchen “Just don’t get in Nils’ way.” The cook was busy with the hearthfire, and was more welcoming to Cloud being in his kitchen then Elda had been “If you want to just use the current stock and leave behind some of whatever you're making, i’ll call it even.” He’d been pleased to discover that Cloud was bringing venison to the pot, and he agreed with Nils that it was a fair exchange. Not like he could eat two pounds of meat by himself anyways. Not without making himself sick.

While he was cooking, he noticed the lockbox...unattended, and no one was around. Did he dare chance it?...he did need to practice his lockpicking. He’d be able to hear anyone approaching, and he could just sit down at the table if someone did. He was in here with permission after all, cooking. 71 gold and a silver ingot...that would leave him comfortable for a little while at least, he’d have some breathing room. And the inn was hardly poor, if they could afford a cook and a bard. He pinched a bit of salt while he was at it. If Nils asked, he could say he’d added it to the stew. He ended up with venison chops and potato stew since there hadn’t been any leeks, and not for the first time, resolved to get a small book to keep track of things in...leeks were cheap, but necessary for a lot of recipes. It was after ten by the time he managed to fall into bed after locking the room’s door. He was warm, full and the bed was nice by the standards he was used to. He wondered if his as of yet unused bed back at the guild was nice...and if he’d get to sleep in it tomorrow.

He woke feeling well rested for the first time in a long time. It was a bit of a later start to the day, but the sun wasn’t quite up just yet. A good time to hit the road. If the guards thought there was anything odd about him leaving the city before dawn, they didn’t care enough to mention anything. It was snowing just a little bit and Cloud was thrilled to discover that the carriage was available for hire. Alfarinn ‘only’ wanted 20 gold to bring him straight to Riften. But thinking back to the precious day, with the eight wolves, two skeevers and the near-miss with a giant and his small herd of mammoths...it was a small price to pay, really.

It was half past two by the time they got to Riften. About an hour and a half slower than traveling on foot had been, but so much safer. He...might have to consider using the service more in the future. He thought about heading straight back to Vex with his prize, but he still had Delvin’s job to do. He’d been glad his assignment was here in Riften, it meant a little less traveling while he was trying to figure things out.

A Bedlam job...thieving around the town without getting caught. An Inn might have been a good place to start, but he’d just all but publicly announced himself to both Haelga and Keerava yesterday. He didn’t think it was a good idea to be seen in their establishments quite yet, it would be too easy to put two and two together. That meant the Pawned Prawn was out too. The marketplace was rather crowded today, and he didn’t fancy stealing from the temples when he’s so recently been healed by the divines. His options were limited; stealing from the poor wouldn’t make him much if anything and was against the rules as well, so the lower level of the city was out. Same with the smithy, he’d never betray his friend that way.

The first house he glanced at was unfortunatly Black-Briar manor...the shadowmark for ‘protected’ was rather unnecessary, no one was stupid enough to steal from Maven. Maybe...he’d try stealing from Grelod. He’d need to stop by there soon, but he was putting it off. He wanted to have the adoption fee on hand when he faced the marton...he wasn’t sure he’d be able to leave again otherwise. His absence had to have been noticed by now, but he hoped his hood would help him avoid notice in town.

He wandered around the backs of houses, the front doors were all in view of the guards. Feeling disheartened, he took a few minutes to pick flowers in the graveyard. Maybe Elgrim...he could come under the pretense of selling the nightshade? There was a mark outside the shop door. Loot. Well...maybe he wasn’t out of luck afterall.

The old Nord was remarkably still in bed, and it was the wife, Hafjorg at the counter today. Cloud...like the old woman, and something was clearly on her mind. “I need to arrange for someone to pick up an ore sample for me in Shor’s Stone… goodness knows Elgrim won’t lift a finger to do it.”  
“I...might be headed in that direction in the next few days. I could get it for you.” Surely it would be on the way to a job.  
“You would? Oh, that would be wonderful. Speak to Filnhar in Shor’s Stone.” Stealing from Elgrim didn’t bother him...but Hafjorg, who was giving homework? He’d see if he had other options first.  
He knew he couldn’t steal from the poor...but apparently not everyone on the lower level was. He spied a mark near a house, and sure enough, ‘loot’ was scraped into the stone. The placard read ‘Valindor’, and Cloud vaguely recalled a wood elf who worked at both the fishery and meadery. Breaking in in broad daylight, when anyone could happen to glance over from the balcony of the market had his hands shaking, but he managed to open the lock without breaking any picks this time. He pocketed a few bottles of mead as he explored the small house, thinking wistfully how nice it would be to have even this much. There was only 10 gold in the house, and it left him wondering if someone else had already come through and gotten the good stuff. Maybe he just didn’t know what was the good stuff? Was he thinking too small? A second sweep netted him some salt, but that was really more for him then the job. He grabbed the herbs drying over the hearth while he was at it; if the job went sideways at least he’d be able to cook something nice with Thrynn. At least he hadn’t been caught, there was still no one looking when he left. But what a risk for no real reward…

He had no reason to, nor the skill for entering the Keep. Sure there was plenty there, but he was a newbie. He picked a few nearby mountain flowers and placed them at the Shrine of Talos across from the graveyard, thanks for the day before. One of the gates back here had a very noticeably cheaper lock that he gave a shot. It opened like smooth butter, he hadn’t even needed to finagle it! Unfortunately, Riftweald Manor had no back doors.Neither did Snow-Shod Manor or Bolli or Aerin’s house...just a gated courtyard. Damn.

He went for the outskirts of the city, ignoring his stomach as he continued to waste time scoping places out. The warehouses had locks that were far outside his skill. Even after he got inside the fishery, there was nothing of value. The dagger wasn’t even worth taking, and he was sure he’d be caught by smell alone if he did take the fish. Risking the docks provided precious little, and what was worth something he couldn’t possibly hide on himself. Ducking into the meadery was pure desperation, but coming in from the backdoor meant no greeter...and he couldn’t see anyone. Could...could he? He’d essentially emptied his pack back in Windhelm, there was plenty of room. Did stealing from the meadery count as stealing from Maven?...theoretically, he could have stolen the bottles from nearly any tavern or shopkeep. Still, he’d check the front door on his way out, see if he needed to come up with a story if questioned. After all...if no one saw him here, they couldn’t prove it was him that did it. He pocketed a few bottles of the mead before coming across a rarer bottle...Black-Briar Reserve. He knew that fetched a good price, he’d barely need to take any to reach his goal.

He put regular bottles of Black-Briar mead in their place. It would keep the inventory ‘accurate’ for the number of bottles, and with any luck the boss would think someone had just forgotten which barrels had a bottle of the good stuff. Or that a barrel had been moved. It wasn’t unheard of. He crept back up to the second floor, wondering at how quiet it was when he saw the unattended desk. Gold coins littered it next to a mid-sized purse full of the same. He pocketed a fourth bottle of the reserve before peeking around the corner and seeing the greeter’s back as the man stood at the counter. Yeah...he’d leave through the back. There was one more room to glance in, and he saw the purse next to the bed. Why not, he was here anyways. He froze for a moment when he heard footsteps...but they didn’t approach the room. He pocketed the potions, and after a moment of debate got the mammoth tusk in his bag too. He closed the door carefully and tried to ignore how he could hear someone else moving around the building as he headed back down the stairs. He had his hood on...so long as he wasn’t caught-caught, they didn’t know who he was. He was so close to the exit.

He didn’t see anyone. No one saw him. The fresh air outside felt amazing to his lungs, and he made his bag look as neat as he could before reentering the town proper, nodding obediently as a guard told him “No lollygagging.” A thorough glance at the front of the meadery showed no shadowmarks. He was in the clear. Time to get home. He dropped A piece of gold for Edda and Snilf while he walked past the now nearly-empty marketplace. It was past nine already?...he really had wasted a good chunk of the day.

“Got a minute?” Apparently people wanted to meet him too. Rune’s story was interesting, and Cloud found himself promising to keep an eye out for any information on the marks on the stone he had kept all these years. It...was probably an empty promise, but he meant to keep it, if he had the chance to. Rune hummed in acceptance “Be seeing you.” Cloud gave his bed a longing look before continuing down the hall, eager to report to Vex and Delvin.  
“Ah, your back.” It sounded like Delvin had never had a doubt about the if, only the when. “Nicely done, here’s your share.” Fifty...was fair. Not a lot, but he was a newbie, so what had he really been expecting? It sure put a damper on the idea of hiring carriages, 40 for the there and back with 10 for the inn? He’d have to reply on side-work on top of the assigned job to make a profit. No, he’d need to keep walking, at least one way.  
“Well? You done or what?” Vex’s voice was neutral. She paid him 50 for the flagon, and told him to come by whenever he wanted more work. Tonilia was his last stop before Vekel for some dinner and then finally his bed. Yeah, side work was definitely more profitable for him. He would have made out with 319 if he hadn’t needed more lockpicks. He was careful to make sure he had 500 left, he needed to go see Grelod tomorrow to pay off his ‘adoption fee’, and make sure he wasn’t listed as a runaway. Being hauled back by the guards wasn’t something he looked forward to, and he knew first-hand what the punishment for that was. Maybe he should have spent less with Tonilia, but he needed lockpicks to do his job...belatedly, he remembered the chicken ehs, and exchanged that with the last of his spending money for baked potatoes. It was hardly satisfying, but it was enough to get by on. He’d just have to make sure to get more work tomorrow, and put off his archery lessons until he had something in his pocket.

Shor’s stone, he’d find another Windhelm job and get that job for Hafjorg done at the same time. That should leave him okay. But for now, he’d sleep in his new bed, and appreciate being warm, dry and fed.


	3. Apprentice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud learns some hard lessons, and had a serious string of bad luck.  
> But he's learning.

Apprentice

Constance Michel was tired when she answered the door. It wasn’t early-early, the sun was beginning to rise, but her shock was obvious “You came back?” Cloud hefted a full mid-sized purse “I...have the 500 septims. Every gold piece. Tell her that first.” She bit her lip but nodded, motioning for Cloud to stand in the foyer. Out of sight.

Gerlod was visibly displeased at not only being pulled from her room, but having to deal with a ‘runaway’. “Come along then, don’t waste my time!” She snapped, grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him back. He eyed the closet warily, but they were in her room, next to the desk where she kept her ledger. “Well?” He carefully extended the purse, extremely self-conscious of the single gold coin remaining in his pocket. She took her time counting it out and he sweated in spite of himself. It was the full amount...it was...it was…

“This is an orphanage, not an inn. Begone from here.” She signed the ledger next to his name. He was free. Free!

He didn’t look back, and ignored the few eyes that looked in his direction. He didn’t want to see whatever emotion was in their eyes, and pretended he couldn’t hear Grelod tell Constance “Haelga got another one. I’m not surprised, and who cares really, so long as they pay. The Jarl only gives us so much, and these damn brats eat nearly every bit of it!”

He was probably safer if they thought he was a whore then if they knew the truth.

Having to wait until nearly seven for Vex and Devin to make an appearance in the Flagon really shouldn’t have been a surprise, they’d been up even later then he had. He took another Bedlam job from Devin, still uncertain in his handwriting for a numbers job and knowing he didn’t have the pickpocketing skill needed yet for fishing, but got a Sweep job from Vex. He needed a bigger payday, and a house that needed a little cleaning sounded like just the right speed.

The job for Vex was a house in Riften, but Devin?...was sending him all the way to Solitude. He’d need to try a speed-run on the sweep job to hire the carriage to leave today, he didn’t have the supplies to make that trek on foot. Aerin’s house was right next to the gate...there was no way he could pick the lock-...the door was unlocked. Was he home? “...Fuck it.” He might as well see if this guy was one of the only idiots unwise enough to not lock a door in Riften.

It sure sounded like someone was home, and he was positive the footsteps were upstairs as he pocketed the golden urn. If things went bad, maybe he could get something out of a partial job? Holding his breath in the doorframe, he caught a glimpse of Aerin’s back...and carefully eased backwards. There was a second room up here, if he was careful, if the doors didn’t creak? There was a jeweled flagon behind door number two. So the last item was either in the room with Aerin...or in the basement. It would be impossible to run if he was discovered in the basement, better to hide in here until he could hear movement again. It was less then twenty minutes, and he was fairly sure the other man was downstairs now...fixing breakfast, or getting ready to head out. He hoped reverently for the latter, so he could get out and finish this job-

But rushing could crumble his fragile opportunity. Getting caught now, when he only had 13 gold on him? He’d never afford a bribe, and jail meant notoriety. He needed to play it smart, what were a few more hungry nights to someone like him? He put the jeweled pitcher in his bad and hoped his stomach wouldn’t give him away as he waited for the house to empty.

He crouched near the stairwell to keep an eye out. It was just after nine when he finally heard the door. Not terrible late, but dammit why did this guy start his day so late? Cloud had been inside the house for an hour!....and Aerin hadn’t even locked the door. No matter, less suspicious this way. What guard would pay attention to someone leaving a house shortly after the other when no one bothered to lock the door? Cloud took the back paths behind the housing to return, just in case. He didn’t want to run into his target with a sack full of loot.

“Wanted to say something to you.” Cynric Endall was in the cistern, eyeing him. “ I think you’re all right. In fact, I'm kind of impressed with how well you're doing around here. Just keep it between us, okay?” It turned out the guy used to be a jailbreak. The story horrified Cloud; getting paid to be arrested to either kill or release a prisoner? It was beyond stressful. Three years in jail...yeah, he’d never do that again either. Or, well, even once, to begin with. The idea of the Dark Brotherhood...that gave him chills. Serious chills. He was glad to have impressed someone who’d indirectly run with them, he didn’t want to get on the bad side of anyone associated with the literal boogeymen of the world.

“Out with it. Time is money.” Vex seemed a little surprised he’d finished the job so quickly. Cloud tried not to let his disappointment show when he got the same pay as the last job, 50 septims. Maybe that was the base rate for jobs, at least at his low-level. He’d ask Brynjolf when he got back. “I’m headed to Solitude for Decin’s job...but I’d like to take another, ir you’ve got anything?”  
“Got more then you can handle.” He took a shill job this time, wanting to see what all the jobs were like before he decided on any kind of routine. This job was also in Riften, and he decided to plant the ring in Bolli’s house on his way out of town, he’d get the pay when he returned from Solitude. He hated Bolli anyways, he had no qualms with setting the guy up to take a fall.

He did stop by Vekel to grab something to eat though, no way was he gonna make it all the way to Solitude on an empty stomach. Seared slaughterfish and a wedge of eidar cheese chased down with a bit of ale soothed him magnificently. Maybe a little light drinking was the way to go.

Drifta was out at market, so that meant the house should be empty, since Bolli should be manning the store. It took some doing, but the guard looked away enough eventually. He’d thought Aerin’s house was too close to the gate, but Bolli’s was a stone’s throw! His shaking hands broke four -four!- lockpicks before he managed to open the door just enough to slide in, hoping against hope the guard hadn’t seen. Why had he taken this job, why had he joined the guild? His chest shook hard as he tried to even his breathing. Maybe there’d be another way out of the house.

For a ‘wealthy’ shopkeep, they certainly didn’t have much on display. The note on a dresser in the bedroom revealed that Nivenor had...apparently been sleeping around. Maybe thats why the guard hadn’t cared about him entering? If people already suspected he was one of Haelga’s, then him heading to a lesion with a known adulterer wouldn't mean a thing. He filed the information away for later, it could be useful blackmail if he needed it. He planted the ring and left, feeling a bit smug.

Sigaar seemed a bit surprised someone wanted to hire him all the way to Solitude when it was already past noon. “It’s not even one yet!” Cloud protested.  
“You do realize...it’s on the other side of Skyrim?” Well, yes, of course he did. That's why he didn’t want to walk! “Alright, climb in back and we’ll be off. First time to Solitude? Beautiful old city-” Cloud tuned most of it out and pretended to nap. He didn’t feel social.

It was almost noon again when they finally arrived. Twenty-two hours...and they’d barely stopped. He wasn’t looking forward to the trip back, not at all. Honestly, he barely had the coin for the trip, which meant he’d need to steal his supper as well. What did it matter anymore, this was his life now.

The old city really was amazing. He couldn’t help gawking a bit, even as he kept his focus on not being robbed himself, and remembering he was here to work. But really, where to stop? The number of guards made Riften look like it was on a skeleton crew, and he’d never been here in his life. He didn’t know who was rich, who was poor or where was a good place to lay low while listening to learn. Idly, he picked a few flowers as he wandered through town. It was an old habit, and no one looked twice or yelled for a kid to stop if it was an idle action and only taking a single flower here and there instead of sitting down and harvesting the entire bush.

The first shadowmark he saw was outside a house with ‘Jala’ on the placard. Empty. Well, at least he knew he could look to his predecessors for some help here. He’d honestly thought Devin was exaggerating when he’d written that the marks were all over Skyrim in the book of his. The houses seemed to be getting nicer, and it was pure chance when he looked across the street and spied a second shadowmark….protected. Dang, looked like a nice house too. He wondered who this Erikur person was. It seemed his neighbor across the street, Bryling, didn’t share the same status. He tried his luck at her backdoor and managed the cheap novice lock on his first try. Maybe he was getting better at this.

The knapsack downstairs had a few small trinkets, but he was more interested in the apple he found. Tempting as it was to just eat it, he pocketed it for now. Who knew if anyone was home, and the crunch of an apple was loud. Peeking his head, he didn’t spy anyone on the main level. Didn’t hear anyone either. Potions and soul gems, jackpot! He filled his bag carefully, the last thing he needed was for something to break. He let himself pop a few snowberries that were growing in a nearby pot into his mouth, sucking on them lightly to appease his appetite.

He probably could have left already. He was fairly certain he’d finished the job already, with only one house no less! But...but he was desperately poor. Hungry, and wanted to fix all of those problems. Just a little nest egg. A bit more, a thorough ransacking of the house should do it. And he hadn’t even gone upstairs yet, what if there was a purse ready? He wouldn’t need to worry about getting back to Riften for his payday if he managed to loot some gold on his own.

There was a little smattering of gold everywhere in the first room. As if someone had wanted there to be money every time they opened a container. The hallway alcove had a few more potions he was all too happy to pocket. He paused before entering the final room. If...if someone was home, they had to be in here. He could leave now, and get off scot free. But it was past noon, who would be asleep still? He’d heard nothing, and been in the house a good while. He’d chance it, the odds were in his favor. And sure enough, no one was there. Until he’d turned around to leave and heard “Your not supposed to be in here.” Luckily it didn’t seem the servant cared overmuch, and simply requested he leave. He didn’t even ask who Cloud was, or get a decent look at him.

Still, it was enough to put the FEAR in Cloud. He forced himself to walk back through town, straight to the gate. “I know Thieves’ Guild armor when I see it. You’re not fooling anyone.” A guard said in passing, though also doing nothing to stop him from walking out of the city. Yeah, he wasn’t coming back here again….not for a good, long while. He all but ran once he was away from the guard at the gate, not daring to try to hire a carriage. He felt guilty, knew he must look it. He’d...walk. At least til he hit another town, maybe stay there overnight. But what way to go? Did he need to worry about a guard trailing him, coming to arrest him? WHY didn’t he have a change of clothes- Brynjolf wore street clothes most of the time when he was playing merchant in the market...dammit, he was bad at this after all. The first few jobs must have been pure lucky, they had to be.

Okay….okay, panicking isn’t helping. He has to go west no matter what, east would put him in the ocean. But...north and hit Dawnstar, straight to Morthal, or South along the river til Whiterun? Whiterun would be the safest, who would think he’d go that far without stopping? But...it was far. Far far. And he had limited supplies. Morthal was closest. He could stop to shop and supply there with the limited gold he’d pilfered from the house, but would soldiers catch up with him by then? From the city’s viewpoint, was Dawnstar a better bet, wouldn’t it make more sense for him to go that way, and therefore for them to send guards after him?....or would they think that he thought that they thought-

No. That line of thinking was unreasonable. He’d go to Morthal, supply and make it look like he was heading north to Dawnstar then double back and head for Whiterun. Hopefully before nightfall.

His geography failed him. He’d followed the road north, over a bridge, thinking that there would be another bridge east...but he’d been going north too long now. He couldn’t turn around, couldn’t risk going back. But. But where was he headed? He hoped...Dawnstar maybe. He ran across a man on a horse with an Imperial guard. He kept his head down. Don’t mind the rabble, just a peasant traveling…

Cloud summoned his familiar, hand on the spectral fur as if petting a dog. It calmed him a little, and the drain on his magic took the edge of adrenaline off too. He saw another trio on the road- Thalmor? Here? He hid until they were gone, shivering in the snow. That got filed away too, what were Thalmor doing in Skyrim- near Solitude at that? The information might sell, he’d check with Vekel. If he got back.

He’d most definitely taken a wrong turn. He passed a shrine to Meridia, or all Daedra, as he was...hopefully going east-ish again. He’d gotten all turned around in that pass, but the good news was that if he had had any pursuers, they wouldn’t be on his trail. He thanked the gods, Aedra and Deadra, when he found a road sign at the next crossing. Whiterun, but dragon’s bridge first. Maybe he could resupply there.

Slipping inside the Four Shields, Cloud bade Faida a good day, and bought enough food to last two days comfortably. He’d worry about being poor once he was safe. He munched on the venison chop and an apple as he crossed the somewhat intimidating bridge. Town had certainly earned its name.

Finding another attacked wagon felt ominous. He checked the Redguard first, and….yeah, definitely dead. He took the dagger since it was better than his own, and opened the journal. It seemed there had been two of them, but where was her husband? There wasn’t much on the cart he could carry off, but it was better then leaving it there for someone else. A cursory search of the nearby area turned up nothing, and the journal made him decide not to approach the nearby tents. Sure it was probably bandits, and he wouldn’t want to tangle with them, but the rumors of goblins, ghosts and witches made his skin crawl even more. He didn’t have the willpower to brave even the idea. Mara preserved them indeed.

He somehow wandered into Robber’s Gorge. And they saw him! He fled, hoping he was far away enough to escape with his life. But...but the bridge was so close to their encampment. He couldn’t swim, and even if he could he’d be soaked through and die of exposure, not to mention he’d have to ditch his loot. He took the risk once he thought no one was looking for him anymore; crouched down low and sneaking as close to the shoreline as he could without getting wet. He plucked a Nirnroot from the water as he snuck, the habit of collecting foliage now an autopilot motion. An arrow nearly struck him as he scrabbled over the rocks to get on the bridge, and he was sure he’d never run so fast in his life.

Chancing a glance over his shoulder coincided with getting hit. His armor took the brunt of it, but it hurt, like being hit by something heavy. Like how he imagined a falling rock might. They weren’t following him anymore. Maybe they didn’t even know they’d hit him, they were unwilling to leave their base regardless. He...probably wasn’t worth it. Just some lone person trying to run. He downed one of the healing potions he’d stolen and sighed in relief as it did its work. He’d allowed the relief too soon, and a pair of wolves howled and began to charge even as he called his own back to help him. He ended up drinking a second potion afterwards.

The sun was setting, the stars were coming out, and he was terrified again. The roads were more dangerous at night, how often had he heard guards or travelers say that? He could barely handle what daytime threw at him. He was tired, and hurt and hungry. He needed to find somewhere to shelter, or he’d probably die.

He stumbled on a pair of bandits looting someone they’d killed. “Please...I don’t want to die.” He murmured to his familiar, wondering...did it die? He’d felt like it was the same being he summoned every time, and even if it didn’t die it’d be hurt and he didn’t want it to get hurt either and it wasn’t fair of him to ask when- the spector licked his hand and took off, trying to draw the bandits fire as Cloud ran, sobbing lightly as a few more arrows plunked against his armor before falling to the ground. Wolves. More wolves, and his friend was still behind him, trying to keep the bandits away. He put on another burst of speed, lungs screaming as he kept on the road.

There! Smoke from a chimney, a house- possible sanctuary- no! A small horde of skeevers just outside. Damn it, damn it all. He circled back around the hut, and was gobsmacked to see a dead wolf. Was it one of the ones following him, what had happe- it didn’t matter. Running, running mattered.

He somehow ended up losing the predators following him...maybe the wolves and skeevers had gone after each other instead. He was in Rorikstead now. He’d...was there an inn? He quickly changed into the clothes he’d found at the overturned wagon. Being a scared, hurt child would play to his benefit in civilian clothing. There, an Inn...Frostfruit? No matter, he didn’t care.

The patrons glanced up at him, but he avoided eye contact, trying to pass himself off as embarrassed. “If you need a room or a meal, I've got both.” Mralki was his most favorite person in the world at that moment. He took a bottle of wine and the room, land would have locked the door behind him if there had even been a door. Fuck it. He drank and tried to keep quiet as he had a small breakdown.

Stupid, so stupid. He should have left that house without going upstairs. He’d learned his lesson. He had, he had, he had…

He slept ten hours straight, and polished off most of the food he’d had on him when he woke. He felt awful, bruised and hungover and a little broken inside. He drank some more before leaving. Hair of the dog or whatever.

Right...dog. Wolf. Once he was outside of the town he changed back into his armor, wanting the protection, and hesitantly called for his familiar. Note to self: magic drain on a hangover seriously sucked. The wolf looked the same. But how would he know? It butted up against him and he reflexively twisted his fingers in its fur. “...you're still you, huh?”

He barely picked any flowers. Everything coming into sight made him flinch, worried about it being someone or something coming to attack him. Eventually, he realized there was another person walking on the road in front of him. He stayed away when the Orc said “What's a milk drinker like you doing out here? Go home to your mother.” He...really didn’t want any trouble. “Sorry, I’ll be leaving now.” He looked away from the redguard woman who was being verbally accosted by a pair of threatening looking figures with strange swords. He couldn’t help her, couldn’t even help himself. Not getting involved was his best bet.

A thief approached and threatened him with a drawn knife. Cloud backed up slowly and tapped his armor “Whoa there…” Recognition dawned on their face “Ah, yes. I think I remember seeing you in the Flagon. My mistake. Good luck out there!” She put her dagger away and went on her way, not noticing that Cloud was shaking as he tried to keep walking. He scarcely heard the approaching wolf as it howled before his companion charged it. It was almost easy now, when it was only one of them. His arm knew the motion now, even if he didn’t have a lot of power to put behind it.

He counted himself lucky that the next time, when it was a group of three, some drunk revelers got the attention of and took out one while he and his wolf took care of the other two. Looking up he sat down as the color left his face. Giants...a pair of giants. What else could go wrong?

One of the revelers asked to share a drink of honningbrew mead. Cloud laughed a little hysterically “Why have one bottle when you could have two?” They seemed to love that, and after drinking with him gifted him a charmed necklace. Dumbfounded and a bit drunk, he put it on, feeling a bit lighter when he did. The giants had moved on a bit, and it seemed safe enough to walk on the road again. Besides, there were three grown men between him and the threat. That should be enough time to flee and hide if he needed to.

When the Revelers walked right past the giants, close enough to touch, Cloud decided that walking past with a wide berth was safe enough. He helped the revelers fend off another pair of wolves before taking off again at a light jog, he wanted this ‘adventure’ to be over with. A farmer leading a painted cow crossed his path next, en route to the giants. It made sense now, why the pair had been so docile and tolerant. The local farmers made regular gifts of their livestock. It was peace, of a sort.

Fort Greymoor looked to be either abandoned, or taken by bandits. Cloud ignored it, he could see Whiterun in the distance now, he was fairly certain of it. What else would be that shape and size out here? He very briefly paused to sit on a bed exposed to the elements in a nearly destroyed house, to eat the last of his food and drink the end of the bottle from the revelers. He hoped to sleep most, if not all, of the carriage ride back to Riften.

The guards at the watchtower didn’t glance at him, even with the armor that supposedly all the guards knew about. Maybe it was a Solitude city thing? Passing a bit of farm, the stable and carriage finally came into view. Finally. Finally.

Bjorlam asking “Need a ride?” May have been the best words he’d ever heard.  
“Windhelm…” He would sleep in the carriage, walk back, hit Shor’s Stone for Hafjorg and get that damn job done. Then...he’d sleep as long as he wanted.  
It was almost eight by the time they got there. He maybe could have walked faster, but he felt like jelly. Boneless, weightless. Walking again felt better. He could focus on it, instead of zoning out looking at scenery in between dozing off. He hadn’t planned on more night traveling, but Kynesgrove was right there. He could grab a room, one with a door that closed. It’d be fine. It had to be. Had to.

Not even an hour away, and he was safe inside the Braidwood Inn again. If Iddra was surprised to see him again so soon, she gave nothing away “Now here's a man I'm glad to see. I hope you’ll stay for a bit, we could certainly use the business.” Cloud nodded and muttered something that was probably intelligible enough since she was leading him to a room soon thereafter. “Sure thing. It's yours for a day. Right this way. Let me know if there's anything else you need.” Cloud almost screamed after her that a fucking dor would be nice. But he was still tired, and let the bed pull him back to blessed sleep.

Splurging on a sweet roll for breakfast probably wasn’t his best bet, but he’d had a rough couple of days, and it was relatively cheap compared to meat. Walking on a road he knew in daylight felt a lot better. Sure, there’d probably be wolves and skeevers, but he had a better dagger now. A better arm at swinging too, and apparently his summoned wolf was fond of him. He could handle this. He ignored the giants and mammoths. He wasn’t going to bother them, so they’d leave him alone.

A wood elf beggar greeted him on the road “I have something to help you relax, if you're interested.” ….he rather was. “The finest skooma, the sweetest moon sugar. All at a fair price of course.” Too bad he was flat broke “No thanks.” The elf merely shrugged “Each has their own way.”

He ignored Talsgar the Wanderer this time. Adventure and song didn’t suit his mood.  
He got to Shor’s Stone so early, the town was still mostly sleeping. He sat down at one of the chairs circling the cooking pots, throwing what he could to contribute before taking a bowl for himself. The hot warmth of stew did a lot to help.

Eventually, he heard hammering at the smith and went to introduce himself to Flnjar “I’m here for Elgrim’s ore sample.”  
“It's about time; I sent them a letter weeks ago. That Elgrim...he’d forget his own pants-” Cloud nodded along mutely, packing the ore sample away and muttering some form of thanks before getting back on the road again.  
The lone wolf came at a good time, just outside Fort Greenwall. It reminded him that this place had bandits too...and he needed to be careful. He’d been lucky with arrows so far, and being able to run faster than those weighed down with heftier armor, but his luck felt empty now.  
He went north as he circled around, wondering if leaving the path was more dangerous than trying to sneak past the band of rogue’s again. Why weren’t there any good options for him? Wolves...okay, he could handle wolves. He wasn’t alone, thank the divines he’d been born a Breton.  
Oh...there was a farm here. How had he forgotten? The Llanith’s had been here for ages. Dravin gave him a small wave , and Synda offered to pay him to help pick crops. Why not, he’d need the coin. He was almost out again. Picking crops, he overheard from the male dark elf that his bow had been stolen. That didn’t sit well with him, they were poor farmers. “What happened to your bow?”  
“Can you imagine? Took the only thing of value we had.” Cloud lightly offered to see if he could do anything. Dravin looked like he was trying not to laugh, and really, who could blame him? What was a skinny orphan going to do against thieves? Still “It’d be nice to have it back. Mean a lot to me.”

Being back inside the city walls was a relief. He forced himself to go in the direction of the alchemy shop first, he’d never want to get up again once he was in the guild, he just knew it. Hafjorg was cooking in the back, and offered him some lunch. He declined.  
“Have you managed to make it out to Shor’s Stone? Thank you. I’ll be sure to get Elgrim to examine this as soon as his...busy schedule allows.” Being paid in potions was fine, he knew the true worth of them now. He’d...he’d be dead if he hadn’t had them. “Don’t forget us if you need supplies for your journey.”

He stopped by Marise’s stand to buy things for dinner, and to stock his chest at the guild with. He didn’t have much on him, but he wanted to lay low for a bit. Rest and forget. His chest looked better with the milk, flour and butter inside next to the smattering of emergency gold. He placed a couple of apples on top of the flour bags, feeling secure in his future for the first time.

Devlin took in his appearance “Run into a spot of trouble on the road?” Cloud’s mouth opened and words tumbled out like a floodgate. He...wasn’t being loud, but it seemed like most of the guild was paying attention, and could hear what he was saying. Devin held up a hand when the kid started to panic “Being seen isn’t getting caught. Guards involved, jail. Thats being caught. Sounds to me like a servant irritated with a ‘spectator’, you were in a thane’s house lad. People do wander in. And he didn’t get a good look at you- you had your hood on? No damage done. Its a near-miss, but you’ll have worse then that by the time your grown. Try not to worry yourself too much, eh?” Numbly, Cloud nodded and took his pay for the assignment.

If that was not getting caught...he wasn’t sure he could handle the real deal. He let Vex know the shill job was done, and she nodded “Fine. I guess you’ll need your coin then.” She clearly had already had the results, maybe Bolli had been jailed, or fined? She didn’t ask any more questions. Cloud didn’t take any more work for now, and felt lucky that Tonilia wasn’t busy. He sold his old dagger back to her on top of his loot; the next new recruit might need it, and he had something better now. The weight in his pockets, more lockpicks a couple of healing potions and enough gold to...to...well. He could afford lessons now. “Hey Vekel. Whats on the menu.” Grilled chicken and mead made a decent meal. So what if it was only noon, he didn’t have regular hours now. He could drink.

Apparently Darvin’s bow was deeper in the rataway, where the non-members, the crazies and the dangerous lives. He’d...do that some other time. An hour of sitting on his bed and sipping from a bottle while reading a copy of Ahzirr Traajijazeri let him know he wasn’t going to be able to sleep yet. Might as well do something productive til night. He paid Niruin, muttering something about needing to be able to travel more safely. The first hour was more verbal, and then care of and stringing a bow, checking arrows. Then he walked Cloud over to the dummies, and walked him through, showing Cloud first then watching and correcting his posture, offering advice on visualization and telling Cloud how to decide where to aim on moving targets. “Having that familiar of yours should help. Ideally it’ll-”  
“He.”  
“...right. He’ll keep them more or less stationary.” Cloud fired arrows off and on for about two hours, arms feeling like jelly. He’d practice more in his free time from now on. He saw Vipir head down a hallway he hadn’t explored yet, and followed after him on a whim. “Hey, how's it going? Need pickpocket training?”...yeah. Yeah, he really did. Those lessons were less intuitive, but he got plenty of good tips. Vipir also advised him on selecting targets, and added that “Practicing on sleeping people is one of the best bets when your new to things. Or going for outlying pockets on people sitting. Just be careful, someone’s as likely to pull a knife as shout. Keep it smooth and if they notice anything, apologize for bumping into them. Remember, your late for something, and in a hurry. And don’t even think about ‘practicing’ on members of the guild.”  
The chests in the room looked like good practice. So long as he had at least twenty lockpicks left over, breaking a few would be worth it for the learning experience.

The note on the floor had him smiling. The fact that there were small trinkets, meant to reward newer members like him for honing the skill eased the weight in his heart that the last two days had threatened to burst. Sitting on the floor and fiddling around, learning without being scared of getting caught was a far better way to get this down. The novice and apprentice chests went just fine, and he only broke one pick on the adept leveled one. He eyes the expert lock warily before moving to kneel in front of it. The picks snapped so easily he wondered for a moment if there was something wrong with them, but Vipir confirmed that better locks needed a much gentler touch. He managed, after breaking more picks then he’d wanted to. But...he had an idea of stronger locks now. “Why don’t you give that master lock a try? Its mostly a running joke, most can’t get it open, but the prize is supposed to be good.”  
It was huge, and intimidating. He could have slept inside the thing, if he’d been inclined.  
Cloud stopped his tools after his ninth attempt got the lock to click open. “Well, i’ll be damned...made sure you rub that in Niruin’s face, let him know you solved all his little locks in one afternoon. Ha!”  
Well...most of this he didn’t feel much like keeping but the amethyst and garnet were a decent momento. Tonilia should be happy enough to get rid of the rest for him.  
He went outside for a bit of fresh air and ended up raiding the fishing barrels on the lower level. Cooking with Thyrnn sounded massively relaxing. “Thats...a lot. You could feed everyone here and then some.”  
“Yeah...kinda my plan.” Apparently his work alongside the others was bringing back a bit of prosperity. A jeweled candlestick was sitting on the display case, showcasing a bit of wealth for them all. Cloud and Thrynn cooking a small feast had everyone in good spirits, and Vekel went half-price on drinks to add to the celebration. Devin’s murmurings about a curse and their luck felt more real to Cloud now, but he had one more stop to make tonight before he slept off his misadventure. Lugging a kettle to Beggar’s row had him sweating, but he had a new appreciation for his lot now. And...this could have so easily been his life.  
It was dark, damp and overall unpleasant, but not cold...not terribly so. There was already some food scattered around, mostly raw vegetables and apples with some carefully horded cheese. Cloud set the kettle down near the fire and carefully stacked the empty dishes next to it, tankard included, before dropping off some more apples. It wasn’t much, and he didn’t need them to know it was him. But he understood being hungry, and what a nice meal meant.

It made him feel better. Being a ‘criminal’ didn’t matter, not really. Not when he could help out like this. Maybe next time he could bring a few potions of cure disease too. They needed those more than he did.


	4. Adept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud's luck runs out, nearly everything that could go wrong does, and someone gets a name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Oh, I can handle posting once a week, I already have four chapters done!  
> -starts new job-  
> ....well, I have half of the next chapter done. Guess i'll have to spend my whole weekend playing skyrim.
> 
> I should know better then to think I can keep ahead of things.

Adept

Sleep wasn’t always coming easy, and the nightmares had an element of fear they hadn’t before. Sure, he’d spent most of his life scared and hadn’t had a great time growing up...but he’d never been sure he was going to die before. He dipped into the moon sugar just a little when he woke up silent-screaming, and was grateful that no one paid any mind. If someone was sleeping or in their bed, you pretended they were invisible. Unless you’d been invited to their bed, or there was an emergency.

He didn’t always work every day. Some days he just cooked and practiced with his bow and Nuirin’s reset locks, and others he’d read while waiting for his armor to dry. Having the water there made bathing and laundry a breeze, and it was shocking how cleanly everyone was. Vekel had made a deal with him and Thrynn as well “Look, I don’t mind you boys taking over the cooking...here’s the menu. You do the work, drinks are half off. I’ll throw some ingredients your way too. We have a deal?” He was sold. He liked cooking, and he’d grown used to a bit of mead or ale to warm his belly before reading, or the slow camaraderie he was building with his guildmates.

He’d taken a few more jobs, mostly trying to sharpen up his newly acquired skills, and finally bought a few scrolls and some charcoal to get himself ready for numbers jobs. He burgled Bolli’s one night. He, personally, didn’t give a damn if the guy paid protection to the guild If he wasn’t caught, then it was fair game. And he’d been late on his payment, so for all the guild knew, it was someone who wasn’t aware he was paying again. Incentive to keep paying.

“Every now and again, we like to remind the shopkeepers whos in charge.” Vex’s description of heist jobs was oddly thrilling, and it sounded like what he’d done at candlehearth hall. He paired it with a fishing job from Delvin, feeling calmer after the last few days and ready to trust in his luck and developing skills again. Markarth...was like Riften. He’d heard. And he’d been to Whiterun before, kind of. He’d do the Markarth job first, spend a day looking around, learn the city a bit for future jobs and then set out back to Whiterun the next morning. It...was almost a sight-seeing work-vacation. Yeah. Not so bad.

Vipir told him to start saving up for a horse “Cheaper than hiring the carriages in the long run, and a horse doesn’t care what time you do things. Not to mention, they can carry a lot more than you can. Saves your back, your purse and your legs.”   
Hofgrir wanted 1000 for the mare. Something didn’t sit quite right with Cloud, that a horse cost twice as much as he did. Still, he’d save up. His guildmates had made a lot of good points, having a horse was a good investment.

He didn’t do much the rest of the day, mostly practiced some more writing and made sure he was all stocked up for his trip. He’d never be that underprepared again, no matter how broke he was. Vex was laughing about something while he cooked “You got your first name, kid! The Salt-Pincher!” Apparently, his penchant for taking all the salt he found in the places he went to on a job had been noticed. He had a rather large crate of it stored next to his nightstand now too.  
“...I want to make sure I have enough to cook with.” He didn’t really understand why they all laughed harder at that, but he smiled a little too.

Setting out in the morning, he briefly thought about just stealing a horse...but horse thievery was punished rather harshly, and he wasn’t anywhere near ready to forge papers like that yet. Besides, it was a nice day, how bad could the carriage ride be?

He hated Sigaar now. The man never shut up, even when Cloud was actually sleeping and not just faking it. How the hell could Markarth not have been built by dwarves, the entire city was clearly a dwemer ruin! Twenty. Five. Hours. He’d make the gold for a horse, or go back to walking. Never again.

It was the second time now, feeling this faint yearning to be an adventurer. Maybe if someday he could afford some lessons for that greatsword he’d kept, he’d give it a go. Surely, the guild wouldn’t begrudge him a bit of wandering from time to time, so long as he pooled the loot and treasures from those jobs like he did from his current assignments. Stealing from ruins and graverobbing was the same thing, right?

The market was much the same as it was in Riften, if a little more crowded. His pickpocketing skill was new, but his fingers itched lightly in anticipation of trying out his luck in a crowd like this. It was basically a perfect setup, like he’d been taught. But...he’d practice on his target first. While they slept. Maybe give their residence a once-over while he was at it, after he figured out who this Moth gro-Bagol was. Sounded like an Orc name. Maybe he’d be lucky and they’d at least be old.

Walking through the city revealed a she-orc at the smithy. Not his target. He did manage to slip some ingots in his pocket as he walked. He smiled a little, glad his flower picking skill worked for other things. Just past the smith was...a mine that doubled as a jail? Hard pass. He’d be extra careful here, forced labor didn’t sound like something his Breton body could handle. He was small, even for his age and species. Grelod had ensured that. A little further down that same path revealed a terror of an Orc...who, fortunately, wasn’t his target. He didn’t think he could handle the freakin’ overseer of the forge.

“You’re not one of my workers, what are you doing here?”  
“Sorry, my mistake...first time in the city, trying to get my bearings.”  
“Well then, look. Look all you want. And when you’re done looking, maybe we can get some work done.” Mulush gro-Shugurz more than looked intimidating, Cloud was nearly shaking in his boots, nodding mutely and getting back to walking. The nearby Warrens seemed to be this town’s Beggars Row. He made a mental note to drop off some food here later, if he had the time and resources to spare. At least the ones here had work, even if it was forced labor. They had to be fed, even if it wasn’t well.

The Silver-Blood Inn had the ‘danger’ shadowmark clearly etched into the stone next to the doorway. He’d see if there was any other inn before staying there. Arnleif and Sons Trading Company had most definitely seen better days. He pretended to browse while mentaly taking it off his mental list of places. Nothing worth taking here, and the owners were poor enough to be on the brink of ruin, so it was against the rules anyways. The loot mark needed to be removed, but he’d bring that up with Delvin. Things changed, it couldn’t be helped that such marks weren’t always accurate. Next up was a clearly abandoned house, and the a little higher up...The Treasury House. The lack of markings had him suspicious, but it seemed like it was probably either a bank or a museum.  
“The Treasury house is really just for patrons of the Silver-Blood family. You don’t belong here.” Rhiada was a bit of a bitch for someone dressed like one of Haelga’s girls and golden facepaint, but Cloud wasn’t one to judge. Really. “What kind of patrons do you have?” It was supposed to be insulting, but she either missed his tone or was beyond professional.  
“For one, the landowners of the Reach…” Wow. So, basically all the wealth of the hold went through here. Yeah, way too much for him, this would have to be someone way higher up or a group effort. Maybe he’d ask Brynjolf about it, once he wasn’t a total newbie. Houses, shrines and guard posts made up much of the rest of this side of the city. Cloud quickly decided he didn’t like it here, and more for the vertigo then his issues with Dibella. All that was left of the town was a museum, the Hall of the Dead, ruins, a tower and the apothecary. The houses he saw didn’t have the right placard, and the apothecary was run by a human woman...which left the keep Shit, was Devin made at him? What was an Orc doing living with the Jarl?  
….he didn’t really want to know. Besides, what reason could he have to enter?  
The apothecary ended up being his savior. Bothela had a potion for the steward, and Cloud didn’t mind taking a little courier job. Hell, it was even a good cover for his day to day, and he had been running small errands for most of his life so far. “I’ll make sure he gets it.”

The guards were evidently used to deliveries from The Hag’s Cure. They waved him through without him needing to explain any further. Faleen did stop him “You. Who are you to approach the Jarl of Markarth?”  
“A courier, for the Steward. Ma’am.”  
“Very well, you may approach the Mournful Throne. But watch your words.” Jeez, she was uptight. But then, a housecarl probably had to be, especially with the forsworn problems around the city he’d been hearing.  
Raerek was more than old, he was elderly. Cloud felt a little bit dirty just giving him the stallion’s potion. “Oh...yes...um...thank you. Here you go. Some gold for your assistance and your, discretion.” Cloud tried not to react, was 250 a normal amount?!....yeah, something here was not on the up and up. He really, really didn’t want to know.  
The Keep was damn busy, and full. Barking dogs, Thalmor, and guards everywhere. Somehow, he was overlooked, probably since he’d been seen speaking with the steward and hadn’t been thrown out. He heard the sounds...another smith? And approached, trying to look like he was going where he was supposed to and was allowed to be here.  
Which, kind of, he was. Mostly.  
Moth gro-Bagol was an Orc blacksmith in his prime. How the hell did Delvin think...well. Maybe he could manage. But what a first assignment. Ah, the other smith outside was his sister.  
Cloud was thankful for his continued friendship with Asbjorn. They might not be as close as they used to be, but he knew a few tidbits about the smithing trade, and managed to hold a small conversation with the Orc about what type of armor he should look into. After all, the road could be dangerous, even for a courier. When the Orc knelt to get back to his work, Cloud took his chance, fingers tingly and feeling feather-light. He somehow managed to grab the necklace without even causing Moth to notice as Cloud casually said a farewell.

He’d try his luck elsewhere for a score tonight. No way was he gonna risk raiding a keep and not one this busy. He’d leave the apothecary alone for the work she’d given him, he appreciated that she’d made it possible for him to do both jobs. The placard reading ‘Ogmund’ had a loot symbol nearby. Maybe this one was still accurate. The cheap lock had him doubtful, but it seemed pretty nice inside. Might have just been the whole Dwarven city thing, but the desk had two coin purses sitting on top just waiting to be taken, and the chests yielded not just gold but a mammoth tusk. A little bulky, but they fetched a good price. And yes, he took the man’s salt. He planned on cooking for the Warrens tonight.  
The second house he tried read ‘Endon’, a name he’d heard in the marketplace. A smith who made the jewelry his wife sold. Yeah, this should be decent. Sure enough, a silver amethyst ring was just sitting on the table, waiting for him to pocket. The bowl next to it had a soul gem, but the real prize was on the small landing behind him. Display cases. Locked, but not elaborate, with jewelry behind them. Yeah, this had been a good call. He didn’t bother with the insane amount of goblets or other ornate dishes. It would just be bulky, and the tools he rules out similarly. The ingots and ore he snatched, ignoring how his back was starting to protest at the weight. He might be able to afford that horse after all; and the city’s poor would eat well tonight. There was remarkably little gold in the house, but he supposed with that much silver, they really didn’t need it. The glow dust was confusing, what would they...better not to think on it, perhaps.  
Even though he’d just been teased for it, he took the salt too. If it was his calling card, so be it. He’d own that.  
Hogni had a food bit of meat to sell, apparently supplied by orcs. He showed Cloud on the map, apparently it was a bragging point for the man. Cloud hardly cared, just as he hardly cared that the amount he bought raised a brow or two. Now he just needed a space to cook.

He had to take it back. This place was definitely worse than Beggar’s Row. At least Riften’s poor weren’t forced together. Cairine’s words about how everyone either had Rattles or Ataxia turned his stomach. He cooked, left the food in the common area, and decided that he’d head the danger mark and hire the carriage to Whiterun if the horses here weren’t affordable. Seemed 1000 was standard for a horse that wasn’t meant for the plow. Damn. The man selling war dogs caught his attention, but he wasn’t sure if he’d be allowed to keep a dog at the guild. Besides, he had his familiar.  
Kibell was a lot better than Sigaar. Maybe carriages could be tolerated, if they had a more professional driver. He slept as the sun set, and didn’t wake until they arrived near eight in the morning. Fourteen hours in a carriage hadn’t done his back or legs and wonders, and he was glad there was a little bit of a walk up to the city.

Whiterun was...different. It didn’t have the feeling of the other cities he’d been to. It was sort of...run down, at least outside? The banners had certainly seen better days. Maybe this city had other priorities, or maybe they were poor. The inside...looked more like a village, like if Kynesgrove had been larger and paved. But apparently, as his ears told him, this was the...lower-level of the city. Where the poors and plebs lived, obvious by the ‘empty’ shadowmarks on most houses. Well, if this was beggar’s row, it was leagues beyond Riften and Markarth. Maybe he’d been too quick to judge.  
His mark was the very first building inside the town, the smithy. Going inside to scope it out felt too obvious, so he decided to scope the town instead. Play the traveler, a courier on his way back home. He wouldn’t be the only one in town doing it. Two inns, a nice market and two more shops besides housing, but even the poor of the city didn’t seem to be doing too bad. The river running throughout meant clean drinking water. It was a nice place. The next level had some guild of fighters he didn’t really pay any mind to(years later he’d regret that), a preacher, a rather sad looking dead tree, the upper class housing and the expected places of worship. He stopped into the Temple of Kynareth, feeling a slight affinity for the Divine of wind, air, sky and elements. He’d liked to imagine, growing up, that the mother he couldn’t remember had named him in her honor. Praying at her shrine brought him a peace that Talos’ hadn’t. He left an offering of lavender, but also gave the Talos’ shrine in the square a mountain flower. He hadn’t forgotten the act of healing, and small observances with minor gifts were hardly a price he couldn’t afford.

The third level only had the keep, and he had no business there. He’d leave it be. His back was already a bit sore with his current haul, so he decided to just focus on his assigned job. He’d save side work for another day.

The Bannered Mare was happy to rent him a room. It was a bit early to check in, but travelers kept all hours. He was tired from the road after all. He whiled away a few hours practicing his writing while his armor aired out before deciding to check out the shops and market. Might as well get some reconnaissance in, and really, it would be strange if he stayed in that room all day. Even if it was a nice room, the bed was great and he could sit on the balcony, listening to Mikael strumming on that lute. Oddly peaceful.

Belethor’s had a loot shadowmark, and it was well deserved. Depending on how his job went later tonight, he just might swing by here for a few small trinkets. The guy was a total tool, who the hell even ‘joked’ about selling their sister?!  
Carlotta and Anoriath had a good selection, and he didn’t mind stocking up on such nice fresh food. This city really was alright, downright decent.  
Arcadia’s also had a loot shadowmarch etched into the wood, and he didn’t appreciate that his ‘paleness’ looked like Atacis to her. He wasn’t sick anymore, it was just his complexion! But when she offered to show him how to use the alchemy lab, with the tidbit that a little wheat and blisterwort made a healing potion...it was the best use of an afternoon he could have imagined.  
He could swing by here later to ‘recoup’ what he spent on ingredients. Learning was worth a bit of coin.  
He winced internally at the amount of ‘waste’ with trying out some ingredients, but he was learning. He ran back to Belethor’s to buy a small pocketbook to keep track of things for his baby skill in alchemy before returning to Arcadia’s and doing a little more fiddling around with the flowers and such he had on hand. He managed to learn everything there was to know about blue and purple mountain flowers, and a good bit about several other items. He had even more uses for salt now!  
He managed to trade most of his mishaps for new ingredients, or ‘purer’ potions. A potion of fortify health that also drained his magika wasn’t the best, but most nords wouldn’t care a wit about that sort of drawback. Others were...rather critical failures. Magika being increased and resisted while also damaged by magika poison didn’t seem like it should be possible, but the plants could apparently react in weird ways sometimes. He tried to take note of the really nice combinations, like the ones that restored stamina and resisted the cold. Lots of workers would love those. Heck, even if they weren’t the most effective, he could maybe offer the barracks some of his amateur bottles for a severely reduced price. At least, in theory.

The Drunken Huntsman seemed like a good place to kill time. He made sure not to get drunk, and ate a rather large dinner to finish sobering up. Elindir’s story about the place getting its name because he and his drunk brother had gone moonlight hunting and he’d gotten shot in the ass was...well, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard. He left a tip at the bar before finding a bench for himself.

He ended up sitting in the cold air for a bit, making sure he was ready for the job, before heading into Warmaiden’s. The first floor was deserted, and it sounded like the inhabitants might be asleep. The first thing he found happened to be a small stash of salt...maybe he did have a problem with the stuff. Oh well.

Weird, the room was empty. Maybe they’d gone out for the evening? No time to waste then, he had no idea when they might be home. He only poked around a smidge, pocketing a bit of gold before leaving the same way he’d come in, the backdoor. They’d probably think they’d forgotten to lock it, and blame the break-in on that.

Since he was riding a bit of an adrenaline high, he swung by the rear entrance of Belathor’s. Time to see what the Breton kept in stock. He ended up having to quietly bail after only pocketing some salt and a horker tusk, the guy was still up and eating. Weirdo.

Arcadia’s back door actually was unlocked. The room was a mess, it looked like the bookcase had decided it didn’t feel like holding things anymore. Books, plates and parts of a wheel of cheese cluttered the floor. Maybe she was drunk? But no, he could hear her in the next room, working at her craft. Apparently the town was a bunch of night owls. He’d keep that in mind for the future. He’d already finished the job he’d come to Whiterun for, no need to push his luck.

He went to bed and got up early, half past four seemed like a decent time to hit the road. He was sick to death of carriages, and he really didn’t want to know if Bjorlam remembered him from last time.

He got cocky after he and his summoned familiar managed to take down the skeever so fast. He almost didn’t see the assassin coming before there was a growl and his partner launched itself forward. Ooooooh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit shit shit! “We’re here to teach you a lesson.” Someone else declared. A hired thug, from the looks of it, but….oh. His luck had really and truly run out. He should have just taken the carriage.

He alternated sprinting and throwing magic to his wolf, knowing in his bones it wouldn’t be enough. He’d thought he’d been in danger before, with the bandits. But these...were people hired to kill him. They wouldn’t leave just because he ran far away enough from their place of residence. He almost didn’t see the other two thugs before they hit him, and it was the adrenaline rush he needed to force another sprint.

Through a fair bit of potion abuse, using the terrain and his small build to his advantage, and a huge reliance on his summon, they finally managed to take the assassin down first while the thugs were still trying to catch up again. A thug tripped over something and his wolf leaped at the chance, ripping the man’s throat out. The third one took a long, long time to take down, and Cloud was aching from so much magical strain, even with his dwindling potion supply. The last one bashed him with his shield repeatedly, trying to keep his focus on what was clearly the main threat: the wolf. Cloud managed to get a few good licks in with his dagger, though he was battered and dazed. He almost didn’t realize it when the last one finally went down that….that…  
He threw up. Repeatedly. Four...he, he and his wolf...had killed four people. His hands shook as he combed through their pockets. The contract on the thugs was signed by Malthyr Elenil. Who…? Oh. OH. The pawnbroker from Windhelm who had glanced at him a few times. Well, at least he’d merely contracted them to ‘teach him a lesson’. The part at the end that said the elf had no qualms about him being killed if necessary however...that gave him shivers.  
The note on the assassin was much more worrisome. Someone...had contracted the Dark Brotherhood to kill him. He- he needed to talk to Brynjolf, and quickly. The two factions supposedly had a deal where neither group would target the other, he needed to get this fixed. Hell, the person had already been paid too, would he have to counter-offer? Shit. Shit shit shit shit sh-

His wolf’s nose bumped against Cloud’s hand. The Breton sat down and pulled his partner close, conjured fur felt almost the same as real fur “You saved me. Again.” It was odd. He couldn’t remember anyone else having a conjured familiar like this. Maybe he was doing it wrong. Oh well, he wasn’t a proper mage anyways, so who cared? “...the nords have a story about a great wolf. A god. You...should have a name. I think i’ll call you Fenrir.” A spectral tongue licked his cheek. “You like it? Cool, good...lets ah. Let's...get moving.” He hefted one of the branded shields onto his back, the only thing he was reliably sure he could carry. He’d use it to identify the group, hopefully Vex would recognize the pattern on it. He might need to pay off them, or the elf too.

It was noon now. So much of the day, wasted. He turned around and trekked back to the stables of Whiterun. He’d take the damn carriage.

It was well after midnight when they arrived. Possibly even after one- his internal clock felt off after the fighting. He hadn’t been able to sleep, not really. The adrenaline had mostly died down, but he was potion-sick now. He’d have the jitters for at least a day, possibly other minor side effects for longer.

Delvin must have seen it written on his face “Pull up a seat and have a drink.”  
Cloud had downed two before pulling Moth gro-Bagol’s gold and ruby necklace from his pocket and sliding it over. “I can pat you on the back all day, but coins coin right?” 100 felt like a way better payout- was this just a better paying job or was he no longer the ‘newbie’ and entitled to better pay now? He’d bother Brynjolf...after another drink. “Well? You done or what?” Vex’s voice cut in, and Cloud wordlessly swung his pack around before shoving the amethyst at Vex.  
“And with no strings attached. Not bad. Here, got some coin for ya.” Another 100...he must have upped in the ranks. Something to ask Brynjolf about, when he wasn’t about to get murdered.

“Occupational hazard, lad. Think of it as incentive to not let people catch even a glimpse of you.” Bryn had all but shrugged at the contract the thugs had had on them. “This one, however. I’ll have to have a chat with our contact; see if we can’t negotiate. We’ll let you know your one of ours, and a kid at that. I rather think their client left that bit out, they normally don’t off kids.”  
Cloud wasn’t sure he really fit the bill as a ‘kid’ for the Dark Brotherhood, but he was small and barely a teenager, so he’d take what he could get. “Lay low a few days, unless you feel like taking your chances. Plenty of work to go around, but it never hurts to hone your skills either.”

Cloud made a note in his journal to get a few more books. His handwriting was passable now, and after a few days of practicing with his bow, the locks and taking a couple of sneaking lessons from Delvin, he was...bored. He’d already offloaded his pack with Tonilia. She’d raised an eyebrow at the shield and told him it was a generic design. So...they probably weren’t with a serious outfit then, and with any luck more wouldn’t be coming. “Thugs are thugs. Rarely more then a group of three or four, and they aren’t a guild. Once their taken care of, that's that.” She’d been thrilled with the amount of silver he’d brought back from Markarth and given him a good price for the lot of it, and now his chest was full of supplies. He’d upped his equipment in lieu of gold for some of it, and now had an orcish bow of shocks and an orcish dagger. He’d sipped a potion to better his bartering frist, seemed like a good idea since he...hadn’t stopped drinking yet.

He wasn’t going to be helpless the next time someone came after him, or with the wildlife. Even if he wasn’t great with one-handed, he could do some serious damage with something like this while Fenrir took the lead. He had enough for a horse now too, once he was okay with leaving. Brynjolf had told him that the current contract was handled, and that Cloud’s name had been added to the list of people in the guild. He...didn’t know how to feel about that. That his name was on a list in the Dark Brotherhood. “I can’t guarantee that someone won’t take a contract if the pay is good enough, but they typically turn them down. Besides, its rare someone knows our actual names, and thats required for a contract. Can’t just say ‘the argonian thief’ or whatnot.”

...it meant whoever had put the hit out knew his name. Most likely someone in Riften. But who?


	5. Imitation Amnesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud's hair starts to come back in just in time for him to take a 'real' job, gets attacked by another assassin and helps an elderly Orc please Malacath. Its just another week in his new life, and he's starting to get used to these things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lost track of what day it was, day four of quarantining due to a workplace exposure. Oopsie.

Imitation Amnesty

“Hey kid, whats with your hair?” Vex’s voice distracted him from the breakfast he’d been putting together. He hadn’t bothered to get his hood on yet, and his hand went up to touch a small spike “Oh...I guess it's a Breaton thing. Grelod hated the reminder that I'm not a Nord, so I kept it short. Guess it's growing out now.” It hadn’t been long enough to spike in a few years now, he’d almost forgotten. Maybe that was why Delvin shaved his head. Vekel chuckled lightly Huh...guess you must be a storm-type. Guess they named you aptly.” Whatever. It was his hair, he’d do what he wanted now that it didn’t mean a kick to the ribs or a missed meal. Still cleaning a mug, the bartender casually said “Delvin was looking for you. Something about a job.” Well, no reason to waste any more of the day, he might as well do some work.

“Well, it appears you actions are starting to make waves out there. People are talkin’ about the Guild again. In fact, I just got a special job request in. I haven’t gotten anythin’ like that in years.” Cloud sat down across the table from him, interested. “We actually got a request from one of the most powerful families in Whiterun, the Battle-Born’s. Make your way up there and look for Olfrid. He says he’s got a matter that requires a delicate touch, and I suggested you for the job. Don’t make me the fool and let me down, all right? Don’t muck this up.” Cloud nodded, stifling a smile. This sounded like it should be fun.

Riding his horse was so much better then having to sit in a carriage. He should probably name her soon, he’d named his familiar summon and she was an actual flesh and blood being. Something to think on later. In any case, it was faster, more pleasant, and he could easily outrun or avoid most any trouble on the road. So far.

It was raining in Whiterun, not unusual for mid-Heartfire. It was another reminder, with the coolness in the air, that winter would be on its way soon. Entering the Cloud District only felt a very little bit strange, even if he did have an invitation to be here this time. The front door to the Clan Battle-Born house was locked, and no one responded to his knocking. Maybe picking the lock would be appropriate, a test of sorts? The backdoor was open, he’s come in that way. Probably better for all involved if his visit was a discreet one anyways.

“Need something? Unlike the rest of my family, I’ve got work to do.” Apparently Alfhild worked a farm. Cloud mentioned he was looking for Olfrid, and was told to take a seat while she fetched him. The older man was...boastful.  
“Olfrid, patron of the great Clan Battle-Born, a name I’m sure you know well.” ...well was an exaggeration, he’d only hears it fr the first time recently. He nodded numbly anyways, pissing off the client wasn’t going to get him anywhere.  
“Devin Mallory sent me.”  
“You’re here! And not a moment too soon. If anything should happen to Arn, there’ll be hell to pay.” The tonal shift was odd, and he couldn’t help but ask-  
“Calm down. Who’s Arn?”  
“A close friend of mine. We fought together in the battlefield until old age got the better of us. Now it’s up to me to save him one more time...this time from the executioner’s block in Solitude.”  
“Solitude? Then why am I here in Whiterun?”  
“The city guard in Solitude is seeking Arn for a serious crime. When he fled here, he was arrested for drunken behavior. Can you imagine? Fortunately, his identity isn’t known to the authorities in Whiterun, so there’s still a chance to save him.” Cloud was tempted to inquire after his other crime...but it didn’t seem wise.  
“All right. Just point me to the prisons.”  
“Hold a moment. This is more than a simple prison break. I want to have Arn’s name stricken from the record books permanently. I’m setting him up with a new identity. It’s the only way to throw the guard permanently off his trail.”  
“So What’s the job?”  
“The job is two-fold. First, steal a letter that was sent from Solitude warning Whiterun’s guard to be on the lookout for Arn. The second is to change Arn’s name in the prison registry to his new identity.” Damn he was glad he’d been practicing his writing.  
“Sounds easy.”  
“If it was easy, I would have hired a local thug instead of a professional. You see both of these items are kept inside Dragonsreach, and they don’t let visitors inside the Jarl’s or the Steward’s chambers. One more thing. If you get caught, I can’t afford to be connected to you. Remember that before you do anything stupid.” ...yeah, he had no reason to be inside. This was quickly getting complicated.  
“Any information on the prison registry?”  
“It’s a well known fact that the steward keeps all of the records in Whiterun’s prisoners in a large book. My sources tell me you can find that book in a study in his quarters. Change Arn’s entry in the book to anything you want and they’ll be forced to let him go after he serves a few weeks.” Okay, sounded like it wouldn’t be hard to find at least. Not once he got inside.  
“Where’s the letter being kept?”  
“I have eyes within Dragonsreach. They tell me that all correspondence from other holds are sent to the Jarl’s private chambers.” Of course they were. So, he had to enter a keep he had no business being inside of, sneak into both the Jarl and Steward's chambers, steal a letter and change a ledger. Well...if this was what a real job was like, no wonder others got better payments then he did for the simple work he normally did. As he stood and headed fr the door, Olfrid dropped a nonchalant “Watch yourself out there.”  
Okay, so this was time-sensitive and...he needed a reason to go inside. He wasn’t such an amazing sneak that no one would notice those doors opening. Probably the point of them being so massive. He stopped by Carlotta’s for an apple and wandered around the town aimlessly. His armor could use a little attention, and his weapons could stand a sharpen, so why not stop by the smith’s? He was almost done with his bow when Adrianna Avenicci mentioned “I just finished my best piece of work. Its a sword. I made it for the Jarl, Balgruff the Greater. It’s a surprise, and I don’t even know if he’ll accept it. But...Listen, could you take the sword to my father, Proventus Avenicci? He’s the Jarl’s steward. He’ll know the right time to present it to him.” ...it was the perfect reason to enter the hold. Yeah, He’d take the job.  
“I have a sword for you,” He quietly told the man standing near the throne.  
“From Adrianna?” He sounded surprised, and it seemed the smith’s intuition had been spot on, since the older Avenicci was going to wait to present it to the Jarl until his mood was ‘agreeable’. It seemed the court was busy, and he managed to excuse himself away without too much difficulty. Since he’d had a valid reason to come in, surely he could get away with looking around a little? No one seemed to find it too strange, at least.  
He went for the Jarl’s quarters first, the letter seemed like the more time-sensitive item to get taken care of. The hall was distractingly beautiful, and Cloud marveled at the idea of someone calling this sight home. The soft-smell of growing lavender reminded him of Kynareth, and he couldn’t help but feel at peace. Avoiding the slow-patrol of the single guard was easy, the Nord must have been bored out of his mind working this shift.  
A glance at the door on his right turned out to be the steward’s quarters. He tilted the door a little more so that he’d be sufficiently hidden from sight if anyone should happen by, and carefully changed the ledger. A peek inside the chest got him ten gold, and he pocketed the potion of healing on the shelf. Heading upstairs showed some children idly playing. The girl was a total brat, and Cloud felt zero remorse pocketing the necklace in what he assumed was her room. The amulet of Julianos inside a dresser...he felt a small twinge about taking. But it would be nice to have for himself, a Breaton could always use a magical boost. Unlikely a Nord cared about the thing anyways, outside of services.  
A shiny caught his eye, and brought him to the Jarl’s bedside...and what a bed it was. Fit for a king indeed...The unusual gem was probably something Vex would be interested in, he’d show her when he got back. Walking a little behind and in step with another guard got him to what he thought was an office-type thing. There was quite a lot of silver, and he carefully placed a good chunk of it in his pack. He didn’t want it to be bulky enough to warrant a search when he left. The potent paralysis potion surprised him. That...would be extremely valuable for his arrows. Yes please.  
Cloud took a moment to memorize how the letter looked on the table before carefully going through the correspondence. It didn’t take long to find the right letter...apparently Arn was wanted for murder. Interesting. He pocketed the letter and decided to get while the going was good.  
It was just after five when he found Olfrid walking through town. “Everything’s been done. Arn should be safe.” The Nord’s response was smug.  
“Arn? Never heard of him. I guess that means your finished. Here’s your payment. Tell Delvin he has my support and all the weight it carried in Whiterun from now on. I think he’ll be quite pleased.” Cloud was pleased too, part of his payment was a ring of conjuration. That was more useful to him then mere gold.  
All things considered, the ride back was fairly pleasant. Cloud liked to think he was getting better at fending off wolves, or at least less embarrassing with his weapons.  
“Azura curse you!” Was all the warning he got before another assassin was on him. He...probably could have fled quickly enough on horseback, but he didn’t want to risk them following him home. The downside to traveling on the main road was that it wasn’t hard for people to figure out where you were heading. The assassin probably could have taken him easily, but he wasn’t alone. The fight was a bit less desperate this time; Cloud was definitely getting better at defending himself, and he ended up on top. That there weren’t also three thugs trying to ‘teach him a lesson’ at the same time was also probably helpful. The note revealed it was another Dark Brotherhood contract, or possibly the same one since he’d managed to fend off the last one? He’d...try talking to Delvin about this. Seemed his problem wasn’t solved yet. Luckily his horse hadn’t wandered far, it was getting late now. At least the rain had stopped.  
The road in front of him had the freshly-killed carcasses of two saber cats...and an orc standing nearby. He doubted he could give the Orc his ‘good death’, and wished him luck. Finding a bear just down the road from there surely had to be bad luck...he turned his horse around, maybe the Orc would be interested? He lured it back, the bear was happy to chase a horse for a meal. Cloud summoned Fenrir and mostly stayed back. He didn’t want to interfere with an Orc seeking to please Malacath, but he’d be next if the bear failed to finish the job. The bear fell first, and in a fir of post-adrenaline, Cloud offered “Perhaps I could give you the death you seek?” If the wildlife wasn’t going to hack it, maybe he should help… The bear had gotten a few good hits in, and dying of infection wouldn’t be a good death. The Orc’s belief system was well known enough it didn’t feel like murder, and his wolf would likely take care of most of the work. It was very nearly midnight by the time it was over, and the Orc had a smile on his face. Cloud wasn’t sure if he’d done a good deed or not, but the fight had certainly been an experience.  
It was raining again. Maybe he should’ve just tried to outrun the bear.  
He was just finishing off a wolf when a Kajiit ran up with a warhammer and started swinging. Fenrir rushed in, and they managed to bring him down after a prolonged fight. At least this one hadn’t been sent to kill him, just an opportunist. He ran into another bear near some Vigilantes of Stendarr, but it wasn’t a difficult fight between the four of them. It was nearly six in the morning when he finally arrived outside Riften, and he was happy to see the caravan had set up camp just outside. Akhari was willing to see him five servings of moon sugar and four bottles of skooma without asking too many questions. The price was reasonable too. He nipped into the Bee and Barb to lift a circlet Vex had requested before heading back, briefly stopping to pound down a cliff racer of Talen-Jei’s. Vekel had good drinks, but mixing it up sometimes was nice.  
His payout was up to 150 now, likely since he’d apparently started to prove himself. Delvin was happy to hear his special job had gone well. “Olfrid sent ahead his compliments.” A merchant had moved into the flagon. Tonilia had helped to lighten his pack considerably, but Syndus weighed it back down again. The wood elf had a great catch of archery supplies and some other decent stuff in his stock. Having a fletcher was going to be convenient, if a bit spendy. Orcish arrow were so much better then the iron ones he’d been using.  
After reorganizing his chest, Cloud dropped a pinch of moonsugar into his skooma and sipped slowly on his bed. He’d bother Delvin about the assassin after he slept. He was damn tired.


	6. Loud and Clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud gets a job at Goldenglow estate, and a letter from the Jarl of Falkreath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this done, and after a twelve hour shift forgot it was Wednesday. Here's hoping I can remember to post on time next week.

Loud and Clear

The weeks went by. Cloud’s skills continued to slowly, slowly develop and he took more jobs. Having a horse now meant that travel time was far better. He liked the mare well enough, and was passing himself off as a courier. Even had legitimate work sometimes too. He’d made sure to etch the shadowmarks for ‘protected’ on the saddlebags and pommel, to deter any would-be thieves. It didn’t necessarily mean she or his things were safe, but it took out some of the competition. Cloud kept basic camping gear, some cookware, his tent a little wood and food on her, and she seemed to have no issue with carrying his loot. Ill-begotten or not.

He could fire a bow easily enough from her saddle, though moving targets weren’t always manageable for him. He was spending a little too uch on arrows these days, but Fenrir could usually pin down or distract anything long enough for him to get a shot in.

He heard rumors of the ‘grey fox’ being back, in Markarth and Riften, whatever that was. He’d made a point of continuing his charitable work with both Beggar’s Row and The Warrens, they needed food and medicine. Besides, he had his safety-net, so long as he didn’t muck up and have to pay a bribe he should be fine. Most of his gold was going to his horse, arrows and training, but it still left him with a food-fund and a little to play with.

He should probably cut back a little on the drinking and moon sugar if he was being honest. But it made his hands stop shaking and the anxiety shut up. He could mostly sleep at night, it didn’t matter if it was clinging to his familiar’s fur on the road or in a bed. A little mead or ale did the trick. He did make sure to keep himself sober before jobs now; he’d already been seen a few times and didn’t fancy trying out jail. He’d heard it was even less fun for non-nords.

Numbers jobs turned out to be both easy and boring. He only took them when Delvin was back-logged. He understood why they were necessary, kept the operations running smooth and all, but it just...didn’t give him any satisfaction.

That wasn’t to say it was all smooth sailing. He’d had to pay off guards a few times; Saffir had unexpectedly been home when he’d gone to Amren’s house and no amount of insisting he was there to inquire about the missing family sword would convince her he wasn’t there to rob them. Which, he was, but come on! What was the point of keeping an ear out for info if he couldn’t even use it!

He figured he was probably in low-key trouble when Vex told him she wasn’t giving him anymore work til he talked to Delvin. Either someone had caught a glimpse of him again, or...well, Delvin apparently was the one who normally communicated with the Dark Brotherhood, other then when Mercer Frey did. Maybe it was news, Cloud had been less panicked but more worried after the second assassin, but he wanted to know what the heck was going on. Delvin let him know he had a job from Mercer this time, and to head to the cistern to talk with their leader.

Despite bing a busy man, Mercer insisted “Lets wait until Brynjolf is here before we begin.”  
Once Brynjolf arrived, he went through the motions of small talk, going over the work Cloud had been doing and how he’d risen suitably to be considered for a bigger job. “I think its time we put your expertise to the test.”  
“Wait a moment, your not talking about Goldenglow, are you? Even our little Vex couldn’t get in.” Brynjolf seemed more then a little surprised that Cloud was being considered for the job.  
“You claim this recruit possess an aptitude for our line of work. If so, let him prove it.” He turned back to Cloud to give him the details. “Goldenglow Estate is critically important to one of our largest clients. However, the owner has suddenly decided to take matters into his own hands and shut us out. He needs to be taught a lesson. Brynjolf will provide you with the details.”  
With a nod, Cloud trend to his mentor “Tell me about the goldenglow job.”  
“Goldenglow Estate is a bee farm; they raise the wretched little things for honey. Its owned by some smart-mouthed wood elf named Aringoth. We need you to teach him a lesson by burning down three of the estate’s hives and clearing out the safe in the main house. You can’t burn the whole place to the ground. That important client Mercer mentioned would be furious if you did. The Guild depends on an arrangement of influential people to keep things running smoothly Without them at our backs, we’d be in serious trouble. The last thing we want to be doing is crossing our clients. Maven prefers that Aringoth remains alive, but if he tries to stop you from getting the job done, kill him. The Guild has a lot riding on this. Don’t make me look foolish by mucking it up.” Cloud nodded mutely, slightly overwhelmed by this...a job that Vex hadn’t been able to handle? Why was Mercer looking at him, then? He needed to get more information.

He stopped back in front of the guild master’s desk first, admiring the golden ship model that had recently been put on display. “This better be important, i’m quite busy.”  
He...really didn’t look like it. “Know anything about Goldenglow Estate?”  
“I’d like to know why you’re wasting time asking about it when you should already be on your way.” Okay, dead end. Niruin only knew that the honey was used to make Black-Briar mead and Vipir suggested using fire to destroy the hives. He went back to Brynjolf “I need more details about Goldenglow.”  
“Goldenglow estate brought in a mountain of gold for the guild. You could almost call it our sweetest deal. Then out of the clear blue, Aringoth stops sending us our cut. Mercer was...well, angry to put it kindly. So we send in Vex and find out he’s hired a bunch of mercenaries to guard the place. Vex barely made it out of there alive. You should talk to her about it before you go.” He mentioned that Vipir had suggested fire, and Brynjolf warned him to be sure that he only burnt three and didn’t harm the estate, as if twould anger Maven. “Maven Black-Briar is the influential client?” His skin went cold. Everyone in Riften knew to not anger her, and to stay the hell out of her way. “We had an arrangement with Maven. We kept an eye on Goldenglow estate to make sure the honey kept flowing. If the workers had a dispute, we’d rough them up. If competitors tried to buy honey from Aringoth, we’d steal the shipments. In return, Maven allowed us to extort Aringoth and bring in a huge payout.” Sounded mutually beneficial. Something about all of this seemed off, but he’d talk with Vex before trying to plan anything out. “That wood elf s’wit...he’s a lot smarter than I expected. Can you believe that fetcher had more than tripled the guard? There must have been eight of them in there. It was like he was daring us to come and get him.”  
“Any tips to get me in there?” She shrugged “Well, there's an old sewer tunnel that dumps into the lake on the northwest side of the island. That's how I slipped in there. Should still be unguarded.”

Okay...so he’d get to the island, sneak into the house through the sewer, empty the safe, and then burn the hives. If he did the burning before it might lure the guards out, but they’d also be on high alert, knowing something was up. Safer to sneak in while they were having a normal day. He still had a couple of invisibility potions, he could use one inside and another after he set the fires...hopefully he wouldn’t need one while sneaking around, the night would be his best bet. He bought the philter of waterbreathing Tonilia had, partly for the novelty but also because he’d be almost impossible to spot if he kept himself underwater while approaching. He had a drink with Delvin to help pass the time while he waited for night to approach “Know anything about Goldenglow estate?”  
“Watch yourself out there. The mercenaries Aringoth hired are trained killers. Just ask our poor little Vex.” He...didn’t quite dare. She seemed a bit touchy about the whole thing, and he’d caught a glimpse of her temper before. Cloud put most everything he kept on his person in his chest and nightstand, briefly looking at the unusual gem again. He’d ask Vex about it later, no need to bother her again before the job was done.  
Cloud ate his dinner on the docks, watching nightfall more fully. His nerves had been jumpy a bit, and he had sprinkled some moon sugar over his stew. He wouldn't risk drinking before a job, but the little rush of magic and slightly cold feeling had him feeling focused. Half past eight was probably late enough, fall had night falling a little earlier. He downed his water breathing potion and checked his pockets again to make sure the invisibility potions were ready and waiting in easy reach.  
He wasn’t the strongest swimmer, and it took a bit longer then he’d like to get to land again. The novelty of underwater breathing had been a little distracting, and he wouldn’t mind doing it again. Vex’s directions helped him find the sewer entrance, and he snuck into it quietly.  
Cloud didn’t dare summon his familiar. Magic was loud, and Fenrir was louder. A dagger was sufficient to ward off the skeevers, On his way up he noticed the oil on the floor, and one of the damn rats must’ve hit the trip wire, because the next thing he knew he was backing up as flames approached. Lucky him, that he hadn’t been further in when that happened. A locked door that looked a bit like a cell revealed a skeleton surrounded by wine bottles and a large bloodstain on the floor. Not a great way to die. He took the gold from the locked chest but left the shield alone, he wasn’t interested in carrying that kinda weight around. He did take the book, a guide to better thieving sounded like a good read.  
He tripped the next while, and took a mace to the face. Blinking at the ceiling for a solid minute slowly brought him back to his senses, and he was careful to patch himself up. Bleeding during a job left evidence. He finally reached a ladder that put him next to a door. An expert lock...Aringoth had shelled out some cash for this. He broke four lockpicks getting it open, but it didn’t take too long. Inside at eleven was about the best time he had hoped for. A locked on a first floor door had some decent pickings behind it, but no safe. The first guard he saw was sitting with his back to everything. Sadly ineffective, these guys had clearly gotten lazy with such a cushy job. “Is someone there?” Shit, a second one was walking down the hall. Cloud backed up and took an invisibility potion, hoping it would be enough. There were at least three of four of them running around, even though he knew no one had seen him yet. They might have been paranoid after Vex.  
The second floor had a smattering of gold on the tables he scooped into his purse. The next corner at the end of the hallway showed a lazy guard leaning against the wall, so he cut through what looked like a makeshift bedroom breakroom combo to get back into the hallway proper on the other side. There was another guard outside the double doors, and one sleeping in the other room off to the side. The locked door in that room got him 47 gold and some salt. The semi-guarded door was the only one left on this floor to try; had he missed something on the first floor as he moved away from the more active guards? He snuck as slowly as he cold, easing the double-doors open after picking the novice lock, easing them shut back behind him. At first glance the room was empty, but he could hear someone breathing, so he stayed sneaky, and downed another invisibility potion. For some reason Aringoth was kneeling beside a dresser...cowering? Cloud’s fingers reached forward slowly and picked the elf’s pocket of keys, gold and some arrows from his back. Picking the lock of the chest and grabbing the gold was a little tricky. The bee statue and bee in a jar he took on a whim before backing back out of the room slowly. He had what he’d come for.  
Since the safe hadn’t been in Aringoth’s room, he carefully returned to the first floor. The key labeled ‘basement’ made him think he needed to try there after another loop through the first floor didn’t turn up anything. The basement being guarded felt like his suspicions being confirmed. Two near the entryway, and another further in. He saw the oil slick...but he was supposed to keep his blade clean. Besides, that would be loud and draw the others. Time for his last invisibility potion…  
He headed down more stairs. The weakly locked chest had a mere 7 gold in it, why even bother? The table next to the safe had more then fifty between the two purses and loose gold. The safe was an expert lock, but he had the key and didn’t bother to waste any picks. 119 gold and the bill of sale for the estate. He peeked at it, noticing the weird dagger symbol at the top. Thee gist of it seemed to be fuck the guild and protect yourself as needed since they’d been bought out. Foldinging it carefully into a pocket, Cloud set off for the grate and reentered the sewer. Time to burn some hives. He plucked a nirnroot on the way over before going to the far side of the island to avoid the mercs. He scaled the small cliff, and rubbed his hands together “C’mon Cloud...you're a Breaton...summon some fire.” He’d conjured plenty, this should be easier. Just a little innate fire, he’d lit a couple of candles and torches before…  
He was spotted. He’d forgotten that fire would be damn obvious at night, whoops. Taking a quick chug of waterbreathing potion, he ran around to the side of the cliff and jumped into the water, making a point of going in at a direction that wasn’t towards Riften before getting as deep as possible and changing his course. He was nearly back to the city proper before he surfaced, and well out of sight and range of the mercenaries. All in all, he thought it was a job well done. He’d gotten in, done the assignment, gotten out and no one had died. Hell, no one had even lost any blood.  
The sun was just starting to rise when he entered the city gates, and he was looking forward to his bed. Brynjolf was waiting for him when he climbed down the ladder. “Word on the Street is Goldenglow’s been hit. Good job lad.”  
Cloud reached into his pocket to hand over the paper he’d found “Yes, and here’s what was in the safe.”  
“Aringoth sold Goldenglow? What’s that idiot thinking? He has no idea the extent of Maven’s fury when she’s been cut out of a deal, but I’m certain he’ll find out. If only the parchment had the buyer’s name instead of this odd symbol. Any idea what that might be?” Cloud shook his head.  
“Blast. Well, I’ll check my sources and speak to Mercer. But for now, you’fe off to speak to Maven Black-Briar. She asked for you by name.” Cloud paled considerably “I thought I did the job like you asked…?” Had he mucked it up somehow?  
“Oh, no. Nothing like that. You’re calling on her for business.” Well...at least she wasn’t mad at him. Brynjolf handed over 300 gold, and Cloud couldn’t help smiling a little. Not bad for a day’s work. He fixed his inventory and placed the jarred bee next to his bed, slipping some flowers carefully into its jar. He pulled out the unusual gems, ready to show them to Vex now. He’d head to meet Maven shortly. “Is this unusual gem worth anything?”  
Vex’s eyebrows raised in surprise “Been a while since I’ve seen one of those. What you’ve got there is a Stone of Barenziah.” Apparently there were twenty-four of them, and she wouldn’t buy things she couldn’t turn around quickly for a profit, but invited him to come back if he found them all. “Otherwise, keep it. Maybe it’ll bring you luck.” He could use some luck.  
He sat at Delvin’s table and pulled out another piece of loot “Can I sell this Queen Bee Statue to you?”  
“Well, well. I was looking for this little beauty. If you happen across any other unusual trinkets like this, be sure to bring them to me. I promise it’ll be worth the effort.” He handed over another 300 gold. Cloud’s purse felt nice and healthy now, and he felt comfortable with the idea of splurging a little after meeting with Maven.

She was waiting for him on the second floor. Cloud removed his hood before sitting down across from her; Grelod had always drilled into them that it was rude to wear a hat at the table. Besides, there was no one to see him.  
“So, you’re the one. Hmm. You don’t look so impressive.”  
“Sorry you’re disappointed.” He was a fourteen year old Breton, what had she been expecting?  
“This is exactly what i’m talking about. Once again Brynjolf send me someone with no backbone, no determination.” Cloud fout not to fidget “You won’t have that problem with me.”  
“I hope not. This is an important job. I have a competitor called Honningbrew Meadery I want put out of business. I also want to know how they got the place up and running so quickly. Head to the Bannered Mare in Whiterun and look for Mallus Maccius. He’ll fill you in on all the details. One more time in case I wasn’t clear. You butcher this job and you will be sorry.” He didn’t doubt that in the least. Hell, he didn’t even want this job, but he didn’t dare turn it down. Displeasing Maven Black-Briar would make Grelod look actually kind.  
He spent a little more time in the Bee and Barb, and was eventually tapped on the shoulder. “Got a lett for you. Your eyes only.” Cloud’s eyes went wide as he read the letter. The Jarl of Falkreath had heard and offered congratulations to him for reaching the age of majority. Which, or course, he hadn’t, but apparently Falkreath had been responsible for paying his way at Honorhall, and him being off of Grelod’s ledger now had only equated to one thing in his mind. He was invited to speak to ‘his jarl’ the next time he was in Falkreath...to talk about the land where Claudia Strife’s house had burned down thirteen years ago.


	7. Dampened Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud pays his respects to his mother, does a favor for the priestess of Arkay and tries to prove himself in a serious job. He ends up drunk, high and bent over a barrel before finishing the week getting mucked up in Daedric affairs.

Dampened Spirits

“Come to laugh at the grave tender?” Alessandra sounded defeated. Cloud shook his head, shuffling his feet a bit “...was wondering if my mom was here. Uh, or well, her...remains?” She softened at that, and after a bit of searching through a ledger left Cloud alone with a plain wooden coffin. “Hey uh...mom. I guess...its been a while?” He hadn’t even known her name. So like his own...was it their family? Was it to honor Kynareth? Had he had- did he have a father? “Sorry I haven’t been by before. I dunno if Grelod didn’t know or...just didn’t tell me. Um, I’m. Doing okay. I’m gonna go see Jarl Siddgeir after my next job and uh. See if I can learn about you at all. Maybe rebuild the house...I don’t remember it. Or you. Sorry. I'm probably a disappointment. I’ll try to live a good life, make you proud or...I’ll visit. Soon, more often. Bye mom.” He felt a little dumb, talking to the dead. No way could she hear him, or smell the lavender he left behind. But he felt a little better. A name, a place where he’d lived once. She hadn’t abandoned him at least. Maybe she’d even loved him.  
Alessandra was muttering something in front of the Shrine to Arkay. Cloud placed a gold piece as offering and thanks. “You know...i’m headed that direction. I could give the dagger to Andurs, if you’d like.” She’d apparently been afraid to ask, worried he’d say no. It was hardly out of the way for him, Whiterun’s hall of the dead was only a few minutes from the Bannered Mare. Besides...she’d tended to his mother’s grave, and helped maintain the place that housed her remains. He’d like to offer real thanks, not just a token at the shrine of her patron deity. He accepted the blessing of Arkay before leaving.  
The most eventful part of traveling this time was finding a dead elf on the road. Cloud took the apothecary satchel. He wouldn’t be needing it anymore.  
Whiterun was quiet today. Cloud stopped by the hall of the dead first, figuring after he met with Maven’s contact he might not have time. And depending on how the job went, he might not be able to stay in Whiterun tonight. “Tell me, do you believe in mighty Arkay, god of life and death?” What a way to meet someone…”The gods aren’t a big part of my life.”  
“I see. Well, perhaps you’ll take pity on a humble priest, who has lost something precious.” ...this was supposed to be a simple drop-off. “What did you lose?”  
“My amulet of Arkay.” How the actual fuck had a priest lost his amulet?! Ugh…”I’ll find your amulet.” How bad could it be?  
Bad. Really, really bad. Reanimated skeletons bad. At least Fenrir seemed like he was having fun. With how often draugr and the like were an issue in this country, you’d think the Nords would’ve stopped burying their dead with weapons. The amulet ended up being near the back of the catacombs, he almost missed it. Picking it up and looking it over, he wondered how it imbibed someone with the powers the priest had described...probably only worked for the actual people who underwent rites or something. He knew he wouldn’t have any luck if he put it on and tried. “I found your amulet.”  
“Oh, thank Arkay. Please, take this gold for your troubles.” 15 wasn’t really much for knocking around skeletons...but, priests were poor. Besides, it might’ve earned him a few points with Arkay. He wasn’t devout, but it didn’t hurt. “I have Alessandra’s dagger.” He offered it to Andurs.  
“She finally decided to return it to her father. Bless her heart. I will make sure it finds its way to his tomb as soon as possible. Blessing of Arkay be upon you.” Yeah, definitely got some points in the Aedra’s book.  
“Can’t a man have a drink in peace?” Mallus looked like he hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in too long. “Maven said you’re expecting me.”  
“I’m gonna keep this short ‘cause we’ve a lot to do. Honningbrew’s owner, Sabjorn, is about to hold a tasting for Whiterun’s captain of the guard and we’re going to poison the mead.” The emadery has quite a pest problem and the whole city knows about it. Pest poison and mead don’t mix well, you know what I mean? You’re going to happen by and lend poor old Sabjorn a helping hand. He’s going to give you the poison to use on the pests, but you’re also going to dump it into the brewing vat. Maven and I spent weeks planning this. All we need is someone like you to get in there and get it done. Now get going before Sabjorn grows a brain and hires someone else to do the dirty work.” Now it made sense why Maven had wanted him specifically. A kid looking for some work wouldn’t raise any suspicion. That he’d managed some success doing decent work on his own wasn’t what really mattered here. Dammit.  
He left his horse at the stable. The meadery wasn’t far, and if he looked like he was well off enough to afford a horse it might be harder to get the ‘job’.  
There were two dead skeevers and a pacing nord who looked like every vein in his forehead was about to pop “Uh…”  
“What are you gawking at? Can’t you see I have problems here? I’m supposed to be holding a tasting of the new honningbrew reserve for the captain of the guard. If he sees the meadery in this state, i’ll be ruined.”  
Cloud shifted his weight “I might be able to help.”  
“Oh really? And I don’t suppose you’d just do it out of the kindness of your heart, would you? I hope you're not expecting to get paid until the job’s done.”  
In a rare moment of bravado Cloud quietly counter offered “You’d better, or I yell ‘skeever’.”  
“Okay, okay. No need to make rash decisions. Here’s half. You get the rest when the job’s done. My only demand is that these vermin are permanently eliminated before my reputation is completely destroyed. I bought some poison. I was going to have my lazy, good-for-nothing assistant Mallus handle it, but he seems to have vanished. If you plant this in the vermin’s nest, it should stop them from ever coming back.” Sounded fairly straight-forward, but why couldn’t Mallus have done it? Something about this didn’t add up. Oh well, Sabjorn was paying him something on top. “You’ve got a deal.” 500 gold was a decent pay for some light extermination. There was a distressing number of traps in the next room. Cloud snagged a bottle and opened it quietly, sniffing before trying some. Not bad, honestly. No wonder Maven felt threatened.  
The trap next to the basement door was...bloody. Very bloody. He got his dagger ready before unlocking the door. Two more dead skeevers lay on the other side, and he could hear the skittering of claws nearby. Summoning Fenrir only took a moment, and the wolf got straight to work. Cloud knelt down and examined the teeth once they were dead “...Venomfang. Shit.” He didn’t have any potions to keep himself safe from poison. He’d need to be extra careful. Maybe he could reuse some of these traps to his advantage. Some of the shelving had fallen away from the wall, showing a cavern. Had the meadery been built around it? Seemed shoddy, no wonder there was a pest problem. There was a significant amount of webbing as he went further in. Hopefully if there were Frostbite spiders, they weren’t fully mature.  
Fen too off again. There were...at least five of the things. Four of the smaller ones went down easily enough, but the full-grown one was another story. Fenrir went down multiple times, and each time Cloud called him back it was harder. He’d packed some potions, sure, but he hadn’t expected a combat aspect to the job, and only packed for the trip. How stupid, to think he’d only need to worry about what he found on the road. If he hadn’t known Sabjorn needed this job done, he’d have wondered if the man was trying to kill him. Maven might be. But he’d done the last job perfectly, and he was with the guild, so there wasn’t any reason to. Not like he was some loose-end who’d talk.  
They almost hadn’t needed the poison. If they’d left the problem alone a bit longer, the spiders would have solved the skeever problem themselves. There was a lot of glowing mushrooms here. He had to jump for some of it, but the stuff was fairly useful. Could turn a quick profit on the extra if he got too much of it to go through. Cloud cut the trip wire and watched the morning star come down. Too tall for a skeever...why had that been there? What the hell else was down here?  
Taking down several skeevers was hard enough. But the madman? Cloud went through every poison he had, and most of his potions. He drank another mead, figuring he’d have a hangover later anyways, might as well get a little drunk. According to the journal, the crazed breton was named Hamelyn, and had once been an alchemist in winterhold before being arrested in Whiterun for...being crazy? Seemed like the skeevers had something to do with it. Cloud shuddered, the whole thing gave him the creeps, who made an army out of rats? The two healing potions on the chest were nice, but locking a chest with only ten gold in it seemed strange. The nest seemed like it had also been Hamelyn’s bed. Creepy. Cloud applied the poison to the nest and hoped it did the job. Skeevers were bad enough when they weren't venomous. There was a copy of Three Thieves that he took as well. He’d want something to read once the hangover was gone. He’d heard from Delvin it was a good book.  
Cloud was glad there didn’t seem to be any more skeevers. The way into the boilery was just as questionable as the entrance to the cavern had been. That this was mostly natural and Sabjorn was just incompetent enough to really not figure out what was going on like the journal had said seemed more and more likely. Three of the four vats were still in the cooking phase. It didn’t take any work to figure out which one to dump the rest of the poison into. Cloud had a brief moment of wondering if this could kill the captain of the guard...well. He’d been told to report to Maven, he was just doing as the client told him to do. And he’d rather be in trouble with the guild then Maven Black-Briar. The spare key was hanging up next to the door, so he let himself out. No point in walking back through all that if he didn’t have to.  
Noth Mallus and the captain of the guard were inside the meadery when he came in. Cloud couldn’t believe they’d cut it so close. Hoping for his pay, Cloud approached the counter.  
“Job’s finished.”  
“Well it’s about time! I had to stall the captain until you were finished.”  
“What about my pay?”  
“You’ll just have to wait until the captain’s finished. I suppose you can wait around if you must.”  
He sat at the table, privately agreeing with Mallus when he said “I can’t wait to see Sabjorn squirm.”  
“Well Sabjorn, Now that you’ve taken care of your little pest problem, how about I taste some of your mead?” To say it didn’t go well was an understatement. Caius actually pulled his weapon on an objecting Sabjorn after telling Mallus he was in charge, and for a moment Cloud thought that this might end in bloodshed afterall. Mallus was laughing as the door closed behind them “I don’t think that could have gone any better. Anything else you need before you head back to Riften?”  
“I need to get a look at Sabjorn’s books.” Cloud headed up to the second floor with the key Mallus handed over and got a small chuckle out of the bottle of Black-Briar mead in the jailed Nord’s bedpan. It was funny, okay? There was a note from Maven on the man’s table that reeked of impatience and was an obvious threat. The expert lock in the back led to a bit of a treasure trove, almost a little vault really. The strongbox was empty, but there was over a hundred gold scattered about the room in various purses, and some very nice clothing in the closet. The silver was a nice find, but it was the decanter that really caught his eye. Delvin would be interested, he was sure. The last spot he checked was of course the one that key fit, the man’s dresser. Who locked a dresser? The note he found confirmed he’d been backed by someone, and the symbol at the top of the letter was the same as the note at goldenglow. That didn’t bode well. It was over his head though, he was just an errand-boy in this scheme.  
Since he was heading to Falkreath next and didn’t fancy figuring out the unknown roads in the dark, he decided to take up Mallus’ offer to celebrate. Apparently, Sabjorn had loaned him gold in bad-faith, and essentially enslaved the Imperial, and worked him near to death. Since Mallus was supplying the mead and food, Cloud put some moonsugar and a single bottle of skooma on the table. The other man wasn’t complaining, and it was obviously one of the best nights of his life. He was in charge of a business venture that was endorsed and backed by Maven Black-Briar, and the asshole who had nearly ruined his life was in jail. “You ne-never mentioned that lunatic living in the tunnels.” Cloud slurred lightly, nibbling on a honeynut treat.  
“I thought it would be better to leave some of the details out of our previous discussion. Didn’t want to risk you walking away from the job. Besides, you’ve done Maven a favor getting rid of him and saved me from wasting coin hiring someone else to do it later.” Maybe he could negotiate a bonus for that, if Maven was in a good mood. “So what are you going to do with this place?”  
“Start changing it over to the Black-Briar Meadery West as soon as possible. That was Maven’s part of the deal. She’s put me in charge of keeping the mead flowing, so that’s exactly what i’m going to do. If you’re in the area and you ever need anything fenced, you just let me know.” That last bit was said with a hand on Cloud’s upper thigh, and the suggestion hung heavy in the air. “...be nice to have a fence outside of Riften.”  
They kept drinking. Cloud barely touched the moon sugar, opting for a few shots of the skooma instead. His tolerance was still low, and he’d already have a magicka and potion induced hangover, no need to make his morning any more miserable. Mallus had mostly abandoned drinking mead in favor of the moonsugar, and was rather high at this point. They cheersed and finished off the skooma with another shot each, and Cloud’s head was spinning when he got propositioned. He figured why not, and found himself bent over a barrel of mead too drunk and throwing up while it took Mallus far too long to finish with how high he was. Waking up sticky and with a weird amount of mead- had that been what they’d tried to use as lube?, on top of his hangovers had him thoroughly miserable, and washing off in the ice-cold river down the road from the meadery while the sun was still coming up. He barely remembered the sex itself, and didn’t get why people like Haelga were so obsessed with it. Riding on horseback was another thing all together, and the more his hangover receded, the more sore he realized he really was. He wasn’t a stranger to the feeling, and he’d had worse, but it wasn’t pleasant by any means. Mallus’ parting swat at his ass that morning had rather cemented the whole ‘oh I had sex’ thing in his head, and he’d nodded dumbly at the Imperials’ request that he “Do me a favor. If you speak to Maven, tell her everything's well at hand down here, okay?” It felt surreal, and he could blame the day’s activities as well as his indulgences on that. Maybe he’d try it again sometime sober, but he wasn’t really interested.  
The longer he was riding, the more irritable he got. Southern Skyrim was beautiful and he couldn’t even enjoy it. The sun irritated his hungover eyes, and the rising temp had him itchier as he sweated out last night’s fun. Several times he realized the itch was more from a splitter that he’d then need to stop and remove, and it soured his mood further. “Fuckin’ hate barrels.”  
He stopped again near Riverwood for another rinse in the river, trying to get rid of some of the sweat and...grime. The inn did a good seared slaughterfish, and he chased it down with wine and a sweet roll. Left a tip even, he knew he had to smell like the road even if he’d bathed twice. He’d need to seriously scrub down his armor and clothes tonight. Stopping by the Guardian Stones, he paused with his head bowed and a hand on the rock for the Thief. There was a light and he felt the blessing take hold. Hopefully it would be enough to make a difference in his life, he needed better skills then what he’d been getting by on. Talsgar the Wanderer was on the road again, but Cloud easily passed him on horseback. He was in absolutely no mood to hear any singing or instruments. He’d gotten fairly used to wolves on the road, but the pair of skeletons surprised him. Fenrir seemed happy about it when he was called, and that managed to cheer Cloud up a bit. Falkreath didn’t have a stable, typical of the smaller holds. Cloud left his horse to munch on some grass near the blacksmith with the man’s blessing. Lod did ask him “Did you see a hound on the road?” Apparently he was interested in having the dog as his companion, and Cloud agreed to try to catch the thing and bring it back...for a price, once he’d finished with what he’d come to town for Later that day at the latest. Lod handed him 25 gold and some meat.  
The Jarl’s longhouse was warm, and...had a few too many busts of deer. Falkreath used them as their symbol but this was almost silly. How could someone sit on a throne with seven dead cervidae staring at them? Jarl Siddgeir had terrible posture, a greasy voice and was barely older then Cloud. He wasn’t impressed. “Yes? What is it that you want?”  
“I got your letter. I’m Cloud Strife.”  
“Ah, it’s you.” Apparently in exchange for the deed to the land that used to be Claudia Strife’s, and to waive the back taxes, he wanted Cloud to clear out the bandits that had stopped paying him. That he’d allowed bandits to operate in exchange for bribes didn’t sit well with Cloud, but it really wasn’t all that different from the guild’s arrangement with Maven so he could hardly make much of a fuss about it. Between Fenrir and his poisons, he could probably handel it. He set out at night to give himself the best chance, and go try to track down that dog in the meantime.  
The dog was just down the road. Cloud approached it with the fresh meat and blinked in confusion. Was he still high, hallucinating off of the skooma? “You are exactly what I was looking for!”  
“Did you just talk?”  
“Yes, I just talked, and am continuing to do so. You see, my name is Barbas, and I have a problem I think you can sort out.” Okay, he’d bite. “So, what could a dog need help with?”  
“My master and I had a bit of a falling out. He’s kicked me out until I find someone who can settle our disagreement.” He’d...yeah sure okay fine. Why not. He’d follow this trip to the end, and probably halfway through the dog would stop talking, he’d feel stupid, and bring it home to live a nice life with the blacksmith. Up until the dog name dropped Clavicus Vile, Deadric Prince of wishes. What a way for his day to go sideways. Well, if he was gonna do the dog a favor, might as well try asking for one too “Can we take a detour to take out some bandits?”  
“Sure why not. I’m not busy or anything, haven’t got something important to do.” How could a talking dog sass so well? “Fine, we’ll go get you home, forget I asked.” It was one in the afternoon anyways, not the best time to go after a group of bandits. Following Barbas up the road they ran into a bear just outside of the range of some bandit’s bows. “This is shit.” Fenrir let Barbas take the lead, unwilling to get too close to the Daedric hound. He probably knew something Cloud didn’t. The dog took both bandits down on his own easily. It was a little scary, and Cloud wished he could drag the hound along for his other job. The ambush combination of an angry sabertooth, a furious spriggan and several bandits should have been the end of him. Barbas was amazing, and Fenrir kept him safe, falling several times to arrows and charging again fearlessly each time Cloud called him back. He was thoroughly impressed by the hound long before they arrived at Haemar’s Shame, and despite wanting to get out of the snow and wind he was hesitant to enter the cave. Something ominous, evil was inside...and he didn’t think it was just the Daedra. He left his horse a little bit from the cave near a slight shelter and some vegetation that wasn't entirely buried, tying the reigns much looser than he normally would. He wanted the animal to be able to flee if it needed to, no point in her dying because he left her somewhere unsafe.  
Vampires. Fucking vampires. Oooh, he was so not equipped for this. He was a thief, not a mercenary! During a brief break he sat down and opened his arms to his wolf, hugging and scritching at his spectral ears “I rely on you so much...thank you. Thank you. I’d be dead without you, you're always saving me. I don’t know how’d I’d even try to get by without you.” The lick at his face was what clued him into the fact that he’d been stress-crying, he hadn’t even noticed. Fuck, this was such bullshit...he didn’t have the weapons or the armor for this kind of work, he was nearly out of potions and poisons, he should have been finishing up his errand for the Jalr right now and reporting to Maven later tonight. Would she be pissed he took so long to report back? He’d have to put off the job for Siddgeir, he didn’t dare anger Maven. He could claim he’d needed time to scout out the bandits, to prepare...he could give himself another day or two- but dammit he was worn out, still hungover and his ass hurt. He wanted to take a few days off.  
Later. If he was still alive, he could take time later. Getting through the main cavern was difficult enough, but there was a frostbite spider waiting for him that managed to surprise him with a shot of venom before he even realized it was there. Great, now he was poisoned on top of everything else. What else could go wrong-  
A gods damned torture chamber. These vampires were sadistic, and blood was covering nearly everything. Not slipping in it was difficult.  
After taking down the master vampire, Cloud took the time to remove the elven armor and boots. He needed real armor, this wasn’t working out. After then coven was finally cleared, he approached the shrine and knelt before it, mindful of the fact that this was a Daedra.  
“Lord Vile, I have a request of you.” The god’s voice was echoey, much like Barbas’ was.  
"By all means, let's hear it. It's the least I could do, since you already helped me grant one final wish for my last worshippers... They were suffering so from vampirism, and begged me for a cure. Then you came in and ended their misery! I couldn't have planned it better myself. So, what's your heart's desire? What kind of deal can we strike?" Shifting uneasily and making a mental note of the fact that Vile’s wishes seemed to come at a price, Cloud went through with what had been asked of him. Barbas was a part of the Daedra, and he didn’t want to cross the thing, even if it had nearly ended up killing him by bringing him here “I’m just here to reunite you with Barbas.”  
Ugh. That insufferable pup? Forget it. Request denied. No deal. I'm glad to be rid of him. Even if it does mean I'm stuck in this pitiful shrine, in the back end of... nowhere. Well... perhaps there is a way he could earn his place back at my side. Maybe. But no promises. There's an axe. An incredibly powerful axe. An axe powerful enough for me to have quite a bit of fun, indeed. If you bring it to me, I'll grant you my boon. No strings attached. No messy surprises. At least, not for you. As I recall, it's resting in Rimerock Burrow. Barbas can lead you right to it. The little mutt might even earn his place back at my side."  
Cloud walked back through the cavern numbly “...need to run two errands first, before I help you anymore.” Barbus huffed but acquiesced, he was a very little bit at Cloud’s mercy now.  
Maven seemed slightly irritated that he'd taken longer than expected to return, but he had blood spatter enough on his armor and demurred about vampires. It got him off the hook. No one seemed to be glancing twice at Barbus either. Plenty of people kept a hound, and he hadn’t talked to anyone else yet. Maybe only Cloud could hear him?  
“I trust you have good news for me?” Cloud nodded, briefly passing along Mallus’ regards before handing over the promissory note and giving his report. Maven handed it back after reading it, crossing her arms and sounding irritated. "This doesn't tell me much. The only thing that could identify Sabjorn's partner is this odd little symbol. Well, whoever this mysterious marking represents, they'll regret starting a war with me. You should bring this information to the Thieves Guild immediately. There's also the matter of your payment. I believe you'll find this more than adequate for your services." Yeah, he was happy with an enchanted dagger. Heading back down to the guild, he dropped off most of his pack in his chest before going to hand over the honningbrew decanter to Delvin. His eyes had lit up, and he passed 400 gold over for it. Cloud pocketed it and then went to report to Brynjolf on the Maven job. “Word on the street is that poor Sabjorn has found himself in Whiterun’s prison. How unfortunate for him.” Maven sent word that you discovered something else out while you were out there. Something important to the guild?”  
Reaching back into his pocket, Cloud pulled the promissory note back out again and showed Bryn “The same symbol from Goldenglow was involved.”  
“Then this is beyond coincidence. First Aringoth and now Sabjorn. Someone’s trying to take us down by driving a wedge between Maven and the Guild.” Brynjolf was going to take things up with Mercer, and Cloud headed to bed quietly telling Barbas “Tomorrow morning we take care of those bandits I asked you about before Haemar’s Shame, then we can go get the stupid axe.” He wanted to sleep for a week, but a night would have to do. The allure of his mother’s land was strong, and he didn’t want to risk pissing off a Daedra so he’d need to take care of that tomorrow too. It was going to be a busy day. He’d have to get up and out early, lest he risk someone having work for him before he headed out to work on his own list of tasks.


	8. A Daedra’s Best Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the one hand, Cloud's kind of going to miss Barbas. On the other hand, he was glad to be done with Daedra-...  
> Really. What were the odds of finding Meridia's Beacon in the chest behind Clavacus Vile's Shrine?

A Daedra’s Best Friend

Cloud made one quick stop on his way out of town to let Alessandra know he’d taken care of her job. “I felt a caress on my cheek some time ago...I think it was a message from my father.. We’ve made peace with each other, and I’m content for the first time in my life.” She gave him several tomes of restoration magic, only one of which he felt confident pursuing. Having a basic healing spell was going to be massively helpful, and he hoped to progress enough to learn the others shortly.  
Fenrir still seemed distrustful of the other hound, and Cloud had quietly, sillily, reassured his companion “He's temporary, just til we get the job done. You're my favourite.” The spectral wolf butting his side against Cloud put a smile on the blonde’s face. It really did seem like the familiar understood the things Cloud said to him. Traveling west in an attempt to get back in Falkreath territory more quickly had him encountering the Sarethi farm...and another Kahjiit assassin waiting for him. The flawless amethyst he found in their pocket was pretty. He decided to keep it instead of selling it off. The dark elves of the farm had found a way to grow nirnroot of all things. Avrusa apparently used to be an alchemist in Vivec city before the Red Mountain eruption, and offered him payment if he could find and bring twenty jazbay grapes to her. Something about them being necessary to cultivate the nirnroot. He was fairly certain he’d been picking them near Windhelm, and agreed that he’d come back at some point with the ingredients.  
A small encampment on the side of the road had a note about what seemed to be buried treasure, and Cloud could see a pair on the island below running around in search. One of them caught sight of him and attacked before he had a chance to do anything, and all things considered, they went down easily. Attacking someone with a hound and a wolf familiar hadn’t been smart, they got a throat apiece. The mostly unmarried treasure was a pair of garnets, 23 gold and a stamina potion. Not a bad haul.  
Ivarstead was a quiet little town. Cloud mightve passed through it entirely if a panicked voice hadn’t caught his attention. Narfi was clearly...not entirely there, and Cloud coldn’t help but ask “Are you Okay?”  
“Reyda was here, then gone. Went to gather plants and never came home... nope, nope. Everyone looked and no one could find her. Wilhelm said she'll be back... told Narfi not to worry... Reyda will come back. With father I said goodbye... with mother I said goodbye. Reyda leaves and Narfi can't say goodbye. Makes Narfi very, very sad. Narfi needs Reyda to say goodbye." It was vaguely overwhelming, but Cloud really couldn’t turn down such a desperate plea. He headed to the Inn to check with Wilhelm. The man mentioned a haunted barrow, but Cloud really wasn’t interested. He hated ghosts. “What’s the story with Narfi?”  
“He's harmless. He's been in a state ever since his sister Reyda disappeared over a year ago. He just keeps to himself in what's left of his folk's farmhouse across the river."  
“You told Narfi she's coming back? “ He couldn’t quite keep the accusation out of his voice.  
"I just said that to make the poor guy feel better. I'm pretty sure she's dead. Reyda would gather ingredients from the small island in the river east of here. Then one day, she just vanished. I tried to look for her, but she never turned up. I've seen some sort of a cave entrance over there. Folks call it "Geirmund's Hall," but I don't know why. Probably best if you avoid it for now... it didn't seem to do Reyda any good.”  
...They hadn’t even looked for her. Not really. She was damn near directly under the bridge, and Cloud...had suspicions. Well, her satchel was still mostly intact. He’d bring the necklace back to her brother. Narfi crying out “Oh Reyda! Redya! You live among the clouds now, dear Reyda!” He wondered if, deep down, Narfi already knew. “I found Reyda's necklace.”  
"Reyda! You saw Reyda? Did you tell her Narfi cries? Did you tell her Narfi never said goodbye like mother and father?" Maybe not. “Sorry Narfi, she's dead.”  
"Oh no! No, no, no. Narfi never got to say goodbye! Now Narfi's all alone. At least Narfi has Reyda's Necklace... reminds Narfi of his sister. Thank you for giving this to Narfi." It...really was the least he could do. She must have been dead for awhile since there was nothing left but her bones, and it didn’t sit well with Cloud that someone had told Narfi she’d be coming back after so much time had passed. The poor guy. Narfi handed over some alchemy ingredients...he wouldn’t need them with Rayda gone.  
Cloud ended up using the Oricsh sword he’d taken off of his most recent assassination attempt instead of his dagger. It was heavier, and there was a learning curve, but there’d never be a better time to get used to a full blade then when he had Barbas and Fenrir holding most of the wildlife’s attention. A dagger wouldn’t cut it forever, and most of his magic was still...well, crap. He liked to think using the flames spell on mudcrabs as pre roasting dinner, but Barbas was less than impressed. “What, you don’t like crab?” The hound merly scoffed.  
Just outside Bilegulch Mine, and really who named these places?, Cloud found a fairy circle of various mushrooms. He harvested them carefully, not daring to step foot inside. He had to scale around the cliff a bit to find the proper entrance, and was only a little surprised to find the mine fenced and gated. The bandits seemed to have settled in comfortably. All three of the ones out on guard duty were Orcs, and Cloud was glad he’d been able to convince the Daedric hound to help him with this on the way to Rimerock Burrow. He wasn’t sure he could have handled even one Orc on his own. The place was kind of set up like the encampments he’d heard stories about, and he put several things in his horse’s saddle bags as he looked around the forge and locked treasure chests, including an orcish greatsword, a jade and emerald circlet and a steel plate helmet.. A cart outside the mine entrance had a nice little stack of Orichalcum ore that he also took. Even if he didn’t know how to smelt, most blacksmiths didn’t charge for the act. Their chief just inside was a proper terror, clade entirely in thick steel and with an enchanted battle axe. Luckily, he was alone. Maybe Orcs didn’t have larger groups? The expert chest had another enchanted weapon and a smattering of gold. There was no one else in the mine, so Cloud took the key to the place off of the dead Orc and called the job done. “Okay, lets go get that axe now.”  
“Ugh, finally. At least you're not insisting we go back to that blowhard of a Jarl beforehand.” Cloud laughed a little “It’d just mean more walking back and forth. He can wait til tomorrow, not like he gave me an actual deadline. And I’m sure the fact that its Orcs means I can play the whole planning it out card. So...whats the deal with this axe, anyways?” He asked as he mounted his horse, trying for casual. "One of Clavicus's little jests. A wizard named Sebastian Lort had a daughter who worshiped Hircine. When the daughter became a werewolf it drove Sebastian over the edge. He couldn't stand to see his little girl take on such a bestial form. The wizard wished for the ability to end his daughter's curse. Clavicus gave him an axe." Yeah...Cloud wasn’t going to trust this guy an inch. They basically had to go all the way to Solitude to reach Rimerock Burrow, and other then a few bandits, ice wraiths, a bear and some wolves, it was uneventful. Barbas pulled his weight easily, but Cloud would be happy to get out of here. He wasn’t a mercenary…  
Taking down the Flame Atronach wasn’t terribly difficult, though watching it fall and burn itself into an extinguished form made him feel strange. He carefully harvested the fire salts, Asbjorn and Balimund could always use more for their forge. Sebastian Lort was a bit more difficult to take down, what with the Ice Atronach he summoned, but Barbas took the lead once again while Cloud and Fenrir attacked from the sides and behind. The Rueful Axe sat on an alter, and that was that. The deeper part of the cave had some alchemy ingredients and a few interesting books, and the chest had some goodies too. Unlocked for a change, how nice. “So...back to Clavicus then?” They passed an elf on the way selling some...recreation. Cloud took his stock of it, picking his pocket for some of his gold back as practice. He’d never tried sleeping tree sap before, and it sounded like a good way to relax and sleep off this misadventure. Once he was done with Vile and had spoken to Siddgeir again. Dragon’s Bridge was silent as he used the outer path to pass through and avoid the main part of town, and he made sure to have his horse and Barbas skirt Robber’s Gorge by swimming through a shallower part of the river. He...maybe could have taken the larger force on with Barbas, but he felt panicky just thinking about going near there again. He didn’t want to relive that night, he’d been shot at enough.  
Several Bandits sprung on them further up the road anyways, an hour outside of Rorikstead. One was already dead near a cart with a chest, which had a pair of potions, more then fifty gold, a soul gem and a scroll in it. Almost made up for getting jumped. Cloud was starting to get familiar with his tiny healing spell. It didn’t fix everything, but it helped. Passing by Falkreath, he was tempted to just call it a night then and there...but it was just up the mountain to Haemar’s Shame, and then by the time he climbed back down it’d be morning and he could speak to the Jarl. Then he’d be done, and could pass out at the Inn for as long as he liked. He had the gold. Seeing the headless horseman wasn’t just a myth was a reasonable excuse to not see the assassin lying in wait for him. Cloud all but jumped off his horse, entirely shaken; He didn’t do ghosts! Before whipping around with his sword out and calling desperately for Fenrir. It was an argonian this time. Further up the road he ran into Vilkas and Ria of the Companions, and they helped him take care of a sabertooth before they went on their way. Odd, how he’d run into them a second time now, but really he thought it was bad luck it hadn’t been Farkas instead. The guild had a job out for his gold necklace. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed a third person in their group, who looked barely older than him. Must have been a trainee or an apprentice or whatever if he wasn’t up and fighting with the other two. Maybe their packmule?  
He jogged through the caves. He had wanted to be most of the way back down the mountain by now...but it just hadn’t been in the cards. He spared a moment to look back at Barbas before kneeling before the shrine to Clavicus Vile again. He was going to miss having the god around, he was useful. Good for talking too. But traveling with even a part of a Daedra...yeah, that was probably not great in the long-term. The echoey voice of the Daedra sounded in his head once again, and he wondered if he was even hearing with his ears at all. "Ah, you've got the axe! And my dog. Splendid. Excellent work. A hero and his faithful companion, retrieving the ancient artifact for the prince. It's almost... storybook. Ah, but it almost seems a shame to give a weapon like that away, doesn't it? I suppose I could be persuaded to let you keep it... But only if you use the axe to kill Barbas. Simple as that." Cloud blinked, mind going blank for a moment. Sure, Barbas had nearly gotten him killed by bringing him into a vampire-infested cave...but he’d helped him out too. And, Cloud didn’t think he could kill a dog that wasn’t attacking him. “No deal. Take the axe and take back Barbad!” The dog made a happy noise beside him.  
"Hrmph. You're no fun at all. Guess I'll have to make my own fun elsewhere. And with the pup back, I'll be restored to my full power. There's a whole world just waiting for me!" Barbas made another happy noise "I knew I could trust you!" Vile scoffed. "Yeah, yeah, dog gets master, master gets cosmic axe, everyone's happy. Just get over here, mutt."  
Barbas’ side pressed against Cloud as he moved to rejoin with Clavicus Vile. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he sees the light. I trusted you, now you trust me." And with that, the shrine was altered...Barbas looked much larger as a part of the Daedra he really was.  
"Ah, that feels so much better! You forget how nice supreme power feels until you've been stuck in a cave for a few years. It's a shame that you wished for something so dull as me taking back the mutt. Quite the lack of imagination on your part. A lack of ambition like that really ought to be punished. Perhaps by turning you into a worm, or maybe a few decades of... Oh, fine. Have my boon and be done with it. I've got more interesting deals to make, anyway." With a soft sigh, Cloud sat down and tried to calm his racing heart as the Masque of Clavicus Vile was now in his hands. That...really could have gone quite badly. He’d taken a real gamble there. Fenrir rubbed against his side, the same side Barbas had, and Cloud thought that maybe he was trying to erase the other hound’s scent, reaffirm that he was the one that was supposed to be by Cloud’s side. “Yeah boy...just you and me again.” The spectral wolf seemed happy. Standing, Cloud noticed a chest behind the shrine that he hadn’t seen on his last trip. Well, might as well, while he was here. 4 gold, a minor healing potion, a staff of zombies- wait...what was this weird white globe? A different voice echoed in his head. "A new hand touches the Beacon. Listen. Hear me and obey. A foul darkness has seeped into my temple. A darkness that you will destroy. Return my Beacon to Mount Kilkreath. And I will make you the instrument of my cleansing light."  
“Oh, fuck me…” Or maybe not. Two days later and his ass still hurt.  
He barely remembered he had left until he blinked not quite halfway back to Falkreath and there was a troll fighting two spriggan on the main road. He missed Barbas already. Between Fenrir, his starting-to-get-there flame spell and the creatures being more focused on fighting each other then paying attention to him, he managed to continue down the path at noon with some taproot and troll fat.  
Cloud left his horse out in front of Lod’s again, letting the blacksmith know with a rueful smile “That dog ended up being a lot more trouble then he was worth.”  
“Anyway, it's done. Time to move on. Much obliged. Here. It's not much, but take it anyway.” Cloud didn’t understand why Lod was paying him the other 25 gold, but he wasn’t going to argue. Siddgeir was less pleasant. Apparently, he’d expected Cloud back sooner, nevermind that he’d been set up against Orc mercenaries and he barely knew how to use a sword!  
"Teach them to stop paying me. Here. You deserve a reward for your service. You know what? I like you. You're not afraid to get your hands dirty. I hereby grant you permission to purchase property in Falkreath hold. Talk to my steward if you're interested.” Cloud almost exploded...purchase? He was supposed to be granted the deed! Being given a thousand gold wasn’t what mattered to him, he wanted his mother’s, his family’s land! Turning on his heel he all but ran into Nenya. 5000 gold...he’d been paid a fifth, and just for the land- whatever. He jotted down the marker on his map and stormed out to his horse, taking off for the steading immediately. He took out some of his frustration by pickpocketing a mercenary on the road of her potions. Just past Pinewatch, there was a mostly grown over road leading to a plot of land...where he could still faintly make out the remains of a fire. That must have been where the house, home? Had been. One apiary was largely undamaged but dormant. He thought of the jar next to his bedside in the guild, with the bee he’d found at Goldenglow. Maybe it was a queen bee...maybe he could revive this hive. The Jarl, or more likely his predecessor or Nenya, had left a small drawboard with plans, workbench, anvil and a chest the barest amounts of clay, stone, orin and some corundum. The Beginner’s Guide to Homesteading he grabbed, retreating to a nearby overhanging to read in peace as it rained. It was three in the afternoon, and he didn’t have a clue what to do with all of this, but he supposed there wasn’t a better time. He drank some Sleeping Tree Sap and settled in after seeing to his horse and making camp. He’d stay here for the next while, recover from the last few days...and see about making this place a home again.


	9. Scoundrel’s Folly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud just wanted to work on his new property, why did he always get stuck with the icky jobs?

Scoundrel’s Folly

The Necromancer’s circle under the cliff between his property and the lake gave Cloud pause. Had that been his family’s? Did it have something to do with the fire that had apparently taken at least his mother’s life? He had a lot of questions now that he had a starting point. Since Siddgeir was rather newly appointed, he doubted that he had much information, and Cloud hadn’t really calmed down enough from being used to ask his questions or have a decent conversation with the Jarl anyways. Lakeview was nearly perfectly between Falkreath proper, Helgan and Riverwood. His mother had, at his best guess, passed away somewhere around twelve to thirteen years ago. He had no clue who would have known her, or where she would have been known. But he had a name now, and knew where she’d lived...at least for a little while. It was a start. On the alter, next to a copy of 2920 Hearth Fire v9 was a spell tome of Conjure Flame Atronach. He took both, feeling like they’d been purposely left there for him. Silly...  
Half-Moon Mill was on about the opposite side of the lake as Lakeview, and a good forty five minute walk. Less when he took his horse. Hert had agreed to allow him lumber in exchange for labor, and he rather enjoyed it. It was good, honest work, and helped him build up both muscle and skill. Hern was kind enough to help him build a small cart for his horse to hull the wood back to his homestead, and between learning the basics of building with him and going over the plans in the book, he felt….mildly confident getting a bare basics house put together. He got a pickaxe and figured out how to mine rock and clay. There was some trial and error, and while he got the foundation done on his own he ended up heading back to Riften to not only pick up some of his things, but to have Asbjorn teach him the very basics of smithing...how to make nails. He planned on asking Balimund for some notes on getting his own smelter ready; no point in having clay if it wasn’t fired, and maybe for some lessons as well...if he wasn’t too busy. He was a bit shy about asking properly, more or less blurting out “Need any help around the forge?” Balimund took pity. Cloud was his son’s friend, and an extra pair of hands even for a day wan’t something he’d turn away. He smithed an iron dagger first, with careful supervision. Asb showed him how to use a grindstone better, and Cloud was only a little embarrassed about how he’d been taking care of his daggers incorrectly. At least he’d do better with the sword he was getting used to. Afterwards, Balimund gave him a hide and had Asbjorn give him the ins and out of tanning. “Lets see if you can make a hide helmet. Heres the rest of what you need.” It took a few hours, it was a little tricky getting the straps and leather to cooperate, but he had two people helping him to learn when he got stuck. The advice really was helpful.  
“I should hire you to be my assistant at this rate, have you and Asb help me run the forge. Go ahead, improve the fit at the workbench.” That bit was easier, and he felt a small bit of pride turning the finished product into Balimund. “You have talent. Keep working at your craft, and you’ll be a fine smith one day. Asb, go ahead and show your friend around hammering nails at the anvil. I’ll see about getting a copy of Guide to Smelters for your friend.” Before Balimund left, Cloud reached into his pocket “I have fire salts.”  
“Amazing! Thank you.” He paid Cloud the usual rate they’d worked out a little while back, with Cloud handing some back over for the lessons and some raw materials. Part of him wished this could have been his life...but the forge wasn’t for him. It seemed like he could do some basic things on his own, and he was glad for it, but he wasn’t Asbjorn. He couldn’t handel this life. He spent the remaining bit of time before evening approached working on making good quality nails. A foundation was nice, but he wanted walls up as soon as possible. It was already Frostfall, and the cold months were on the way. He’d just finished taking what he wanted at the new place from his chest when Brynjolf approached him “Mercer thinks he knows a way to identify this new thorn in our side. He wants to meet with you right away. And if I were you I'd hurry. I've never seen him this angry before." So much for getting those walls started. He dropped some lavender into the jar carefully for the bee before heading over to the guild leader. He was clearly irritated. "Finally, there you are.” Well, excause the fuck outta him for having a life and not being in the Flagon every day.  
“I've consulted my contacts regarding the information you recovered from Goldenglow Estate, but no one can identify that symbol. It would seem our adversary is attempting to take us apart indirectly by angering Maven Black-Briar. Very clever."  
That was surprising. “You admire them? “  
"They're well-funded and they've been able to avoid identification for years. I'm impressed it reached this point. Just don't mistake my admiration for complacency; our nemesis is going to pay dearly. Because even after all their posturing and planning, they've made a mistake. The parchment you recovered mentions a ‘Gajul-Lei.’ According to my sources, that's an old alias used by one of our contacts. His real name is Gulum-Ei. Slimy bastard. Gulum-Ei is our inside man at the East Empire Company in Solitude. I'm betting he acted as a go-between for the sale of Goldenglow Estate and that he can finger our buyer. Get out there, shake him down and see what you come up with. Talk to Brynjolf before you leave if you have any questions."  
Well, Lakeview was nearly on the way to Solitude. He could at least get the frames up if he made good time on the road...Mercer would never know the difference between him stopping to work on his new homestead and him stopping in Whiterun to sleep at the inn. Brynjolf seemed confused that Gulum-Ei was involved, apparently the argonian was...simple. “He’s one of the most stubborn lizard’s I’ve ever met. You’ve got your work cut out for you. You’re going to have to buy him off.” He picked up a job from Delvin, he’d stop by Whiterun on the way back. Bribery tended to be expensive, and he’d need to replenish his purse...working on the homestead hadn’t been cheap either.  
He caught a few torchbugs hanging around the place, it was just after nightfall, and they’d make adequate light in jars while he worked. The first batch of nails didn’t look the best, but the second ones were fine. Maybe he’d melt the others down and try again later, when he had more time. His horse was all the help he needed to get the frames put together, and he slept on the foundation with Fenrir and his horse nearby. It was a nice start, and the clay for walls was setting as he rested. He let the torchbugs go before nodding off for a few hours.  
He woke up extra early, and double-checked his measurements. It’d be a pain to have to fix things later, and he wanted the walls up today, even if it was compromising on his sleep and making this job run a little longer then the Guild probably wanted. He ate while riding, trying not to think too much about how he’d not mentioned to anyone at the guild his new living arrangement. He’d already been in less then before with the more frequent jobs, and while he did miss cooking with Thyrnn, the guild hadn’t felt quite the same recently. Maybe it was the realization that co-workers, while friendly, weren’t family. Not really. Spending some time with Asbjorn, his ‘real’ friend, had been a bit of a reminder, but it was finally visiting his mom and rebuilding on what had been her land that had shown him that feeling had been loneliness. He was still better off then before, but he wanted more. Fenrir at his side helped.  
A few discreet inquiries and he located Gulum-Ei at the Winking Skeever. The argonian was drinking and turned his nose up slightly at Cloud “So, what do we have here? Hmm. Let me guess. By your scent, I'd say you were from the Guild. But that can't be true, because I told Mercer I wouldn't deal with them anymore." Geez, he still smelled like the Flagon? And he’d spent all night and day traveling and sleeping outside. Disappointing. “I'm here about Goldenglow Estate.” The Argonian scoffed.   
"I don't deal in land or property. Now, if you're looking for goods, you've come to the right person." Cloud narrowed his eyes. “You can drop the act now... Gajul-Lei.”  
"Oh, wait... did you say Goldenglow Estate? My apologies. I'm sorry to say I know very little about that... bee farm, was it?"  
He wasn’t buying the act. Brynjolf was right, the lizard was simple. “You acted as a broker for its new owner.”  
"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. I can't be expected to remember every deal I handle."  
“Identify the buyer and we'll forget what we know.”  
"I don’t care what you promise. If I tell you the buyer’s name and word gets around, it could ruin me!” So much for the Masque of Clavicus Vile...his persuasion abilities clearly sucked even with the daedric aid. “What would it take to identify the buyer?"  
“Well, now that you mention it, there is something I've been trying to get my hands on. I have a buyer looking for a case of Firebrand Wine. There just so happens to be a single case in the Blue Palace. Bring it to me, and we'll talk about Goldenglow Estate."  
Cloud had heard on his last visit that the altmer sisters who ran Radiant Raiment had been looking for someone to showcase their new work at the palace. It should be enough to gain him entrance. Taarie was...grating at best. But getting free clothing and the promised payment would have been enough on its own, even if he didn’t need to steal a case of wine from the building. Work was work. He took off the Masque before heading in. It hadn’t done him much good last time anyways. The court seemed to be finishing up some business with a lower-class citizen pleading his case for strange noises happening at a cave. Once he was dismissed, Cloud approached, as he was apparently in the queue. “...do you like my outfit?”  
“It’s quite fetching actually. The craftsmanship is excellent.” This was the most mundane thing he’d ever done. “It was made by Radiant Raiment.”  
“Oh really? Well you can tell them that I will be putting in a request for a few dresses quite soon.”  
Predictably, the case of wine was just outside of the kitchen. No one was even paying attention. Too easy.  
A small commotion in the marketplace had him approaching Evette San’s stand “You wouldn’t have a few minutes to run down to the docks would you? I’ve got a shipment of spices the East Empire Company is holding up. I need someone to convince them to release it.” Brynjolf had mentioned the company as well when they’d been talkin about Gulum-Ei. “Shouldn’t be a problem.” He stopped in Radiant Raiments to let Taarie know about Elisif. “She loved the outfit. She’ll be placing an order soon.” Apparently he did get to keep the clothes, but it was the 500 gold that surprised him. He hadn’t been expecting good pay from such a bad attitude. The Amulet of Kynareth caught his eye, and he ended up spending a bit of gold with them. “I do hope you’ll remain in Solitude. The city could do with some new blood.” Somehow, her words gave him chills. Yeah, no. He’d keep to the guild and his homestead. But for now, he had a job to concentrate on- well, two if he counted the wine thing. Entering the Winking Skeever he could see the Argonian’s tail perk up as he sniffed the air. Worst poker face he’d ever seen. "Ah, I see you have the wine. Hand it over and we'll talk. Good. Can't have the buyer getting impatient and looking elsewhere for this, can we? Here, take this. I certainly can't use it, but I suppose I need to pay you something for the goods."  
Cloud’s eyebrows shot up at the soul gems he was handed “You're trying to bribe me now? “  
"Not at all. I consider it an investment in prolonging my life. As far as Goldenglow Estate goes, I'll tell you what I know.""I was approached by a woman who wanted me to act as the broker for something big. She flashed a bag of gold in my face and said all I had to do was pay Aringoth for the estate. I brought him the coin and walked away with her copy of the deed."  
Did she say why she was doing this?   
"Not at all. I tend not to ask too many questions when I'm on the job. I'm sure you understand. However, I did notice she was quite angry and it was being directed at Mercer Frey."  
That's it? No name or anything?   
"In this business we rarely deal in names; our identity comes from how much coin we carry."  
I think you're lying to me.   
"Look, that's all I know. I never promised you I'd have all the answers. Now, since our transaction is done, I'll be on my way." Cloud waited all of four seconds before also leaving, and trying to be subtle about trailing the lizard. Leaving through the gates vastly narrowed down the options for where they were heading, and it wasn’t long before Cloud found himself walking through the docks as night fell and outside the warehouse of the EESC. But before that, he paused at the customs and managed to get Vittotia Vici’s attention “Evete San asked me to check on her shipment of spice.” Two thousand gold tariff?! That was insane “Evette can’t afford a tariff. She can barely afford her stand.” The woman was clearly run down and hard on her luck, and apparently the emperor’s cousin had a soft-spot for the spiced wine. “I suppose I could make an exception. I do like her spiced wine. Fine, tell Evette San her shipment will be brought up to Solitude shortly." Cloud couldn’t quite held himself and picked her pocket of gold as he left. She was loaded anyways, she’d probably never miss it. There was a guard between the last bit of dock and the entrance to the warehouse but he didn’t even look at Cloud as he passed. Look like you were on business and supposed to be there and the work was half-done...he was learning afterall. Gulum-Ei had locked the door behind him, but it was only an adept lock. Cloud had it opened in moments, he didn’t even break a lockpick.  
The warehouse was dark, dank and surprisingly humid. Sure, it was a literal dock and seemed to be mostly a cave half-filled with water, but the air felt almost dripping wet. It was gross. Cloud carefully snuck up a plank, he could hear other people besides the argonian he was still trailing. He couldn’t help picking a few locks and stashing a few items as he casually peeked while trying to maintain an appropriate distance. And what a treasure trove it was… Too bad he could only carry so much. He watched as Gulum-Ei went off path, briefly into the cold disgusting water and entered a hidden door behind some cargo. But curiosity had gotten the better of Cloud and he headed up to what looked like the overseer’s area. Small piles of gold and rings littered the table around a shipping map that he just knew Delvin would love. Heading back down, he found a bottle of skooma on the rafter leading back up out of the water. “Don’t mind if I do…” It’d make being soaked through more tolerable. He was lucky enough to see the tripwire and step over it as he traipsed through the grotto. The skooma had him feeling more alert, and he was glad it had kicked in so soon. He heard the whispers before he saw the men- bandits, up ahead. The few things he poked his head or hands into showed this part of the warehouse was already mostly picked clean. Good thing he’d taken his little detour already. He did pocket a few ingots and potions as he snuck around what he assumed were Gulum-Ei’s men. The first set weren’t too terribly difficult to get past, but the next ones had him downing an invisibility potino from his dwindling stock and tip-toeing as best as he could The guard walking up and down the narrow path had him wondering if he could even really do this, but there was a side-path off the main one he snuck down to avoid trying to take a second potion. The first path was narrow enough that the potino might not have done enough; there was no point in being unseen if someone bumped into you. The second path had tripwires, bear traps, hanging bones as a noise alert...and a dog. Shit, he didn’t want to...maybe he could double back down and head up the first path when the bandit went further down? Yeah, that worked. Close on the timing, but he made it. More traps now...and there was no way he could just sneak past the next two, they had eyes towards the path. Potion it was.  
A locked chest on a boat had thirty-five gold inside, and there was a small thrill to being a good enough sneak to pick the lock and loot the chest while a guard stood about fifteen feet away. There was a final guard after that last group of two, and Cloud really wasn’t in the mood to fight. He crept up the stairs, and walked over to the far side before carefully dropping down. Gulum-Ei must have caught sight or smell of him, because the argonian walked over, excuses on his lips "Now, there's no need to do anything rash... This isn't as bad as it seems. I was going to tell Mercer about everything, honestly! Please... he'll have me killed!"  
Cloud somewhat doubted that...murder wasn’t their way. “Tell me first, and then I'll decide.”  
"All right, all right. It's Karliah... her name is Karliah...Mercer never told you about her? Karliah is the thief responsible for murdering the previous Guild Master, Gallus. Now she's after Mercer."  
“And you're helping her?”  
"Help... ? No, no! Look I didn't even know it was her until after she contacted me. Please, you have to believe me!"  
He didn’t. “Where is Karliah now?”  
"I don't know. When I asked her where she was going she just muttered "Where the end began." Here, take the Goldenglow Estate Deed as proof. And when you speak to Mercer, tell him I'm worth more to him alive."  
Mercer...really didn’t need to know. “I'll keep quiet about your scam, but you owe me.”  
"Now you're speaking my language. Tell you what. If you need any stolen goods fenced, you bring them to me and I'll pay you good money for them. Consider me your new friend in the north."  
He wasn’t terribly interested in having Gulum-Ei as a friend, but as a fence? That was useful. “I'm keeping the deed. Any objections?”  
"Consider it a gift to ensure your silence. That thing seems to be bringing me nothing but trouble anyway. Karliah didn't even want it, she wanted to keep the sale a secret. I can see how well that went."  
That made even less sense. Why buy the damn thing if she didn’t want it? “Why did Karliah purchase Goldenglow Estate?”  
"I asked her the same thing and she wouldn't come out and tell me. But now that I know who she is, I'd say she's trying to hit the Thieves Guild where it hurts. Maven Black-Briar needs Goldenglow's honey for her mead. She's been using the Guild to keep the Estate under her thumb. If the owner cuts the Guild out of the picture, he's cutting Maven out of the picture... which she can't afford. If I was Maven, I'd blame the Guild for weakening and not being able to handle the place. For the Guild to survive, they need Maven's support. This Karliah must have spent a lot of time and resources planning this."Now you won't forget to tell Mercer I cooperated, will you?"  
Cloud helped himself to a few things in this hidden chatche, several books he’d keep, a Dibellan statue that should fetch a decent price, a amulet of Talos? Sketchy...his pack was before kicking the levers and exiting through a...horker enclosure? Explained the weird lever system, cages and fish leading to the hidden exit, and horker farming was a half-decent cover for anything going on here. He gave the horkers in the cave as wide a berth as possible, and they left him alone. Sure they attacked people, but no more so then a mammoth would, they weren’t overly-aggressive. Coming out of the cave had him right on the water’s edge, and he picked the nirnroot glowing softly nearby before heading back towards the stable where his horse was waiting. The lighthouse and docked ship he passed looked sad. It might have been pushing his luck a little bit, stopping at Lakeview on his way back and working on the roof framing, but he needed to get the place ready before winter hit. It’s already be a pain if it rained, now that he had more than a foundation. The apiary seemed to be doing well, and he was fairly certain that he’d either taken a queen bee from Goldenglow, or one had stopped by since he’d done his light restoration work on it. He’d plant some flowers once spring came, to give them more to sustain themselves.  
Cloud slightly regretted taking this job when he had to approach Mercer Frey again, the man was just...not like anyone else in the guild. Maybe Dirge, but borderline unapproachable and angry all the dang time. It was disheartening. “Did Gulum-Ei give up any information on our buyer?" Straight to business. Well, Cloud had kind of taken his time a bit with allowing himself to detour to his ‘secret’ homestead. “He said Goldenglow was purchased by a ‘Karliah’.”  
Mercer wactually went pale, his voice uncertain and shaky for a brief moment before he attempted to recover. "No, it... it can't be. I haven't heard that name in decades. This is grave news indeed, she's someone I hoped to never cross paths with again. Karliah destroyed everything this Guild stood for. She murdered my predecessor in cold blood and betrayed the Guild. After we discovered what she'd done, we spent months trying to track her down, but she just vanished. Karliah and I were like partners. I went with her on every heist. We watched each other's backs. I know her techniques, her skills. If she kills me, there'll be no one left who can possibly catch her. If only we knew where she was..."  
For once, Cloud had additional news. Good for him, going above and beyond, right? “Gulum-Ei told me she said, ‘Where the end began’."   
"There's only one place that could be. The place where she murdered Gallus... a ruin called Snow Veil Sanctum. We have to go out there before she disappears again."  
Cloud’s expression went slack “We?”  
"Yes, I'm going with you and together we're going to kill her. Here's your payment for Solitude. Prepare yourself and meet me at the ruins as soon as you can. We can't let her slip through our fingers."  
Sputtering, he asked “Isn't murder Dark Brotherhood territory?”, and god a scoff in response.  
"I have a long-standing arrangement with the Dark Brotherhood. If I need someone in the Guild taken care of, we do it ourselves. We both agree it's best to keep these matters in house. When you're ready, meet me at Snow Veil Sanctum.”  
Cloud numbly went through the motions of selling his extra loot to Tonilia and getting the East Empire Trading Company map to Delvin, who was happy to hand over five hundred gold for it. Tonilia stopped him before he left “Well, looks like your fitting in well down here.”Oh, right, new piece of armor...he traded in his hood, and ate Vekel’s cooking without tasting anything. Mercer was already gone from the cistern when he got back, no doubt preparing for the job. Lakeview was rather in the opposite direction, but there was no way he’d be sleeping tonight, not when murder was on the menu. Getting some work done on the house was slightly appealing, and he read the tomb one summoning a flame atronach on his way there. Best to be prepared.


	10. Speaking with Silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud learns the truth about Mercer and Karliah  
> Betrayal stings more then he thought it would

Speaking with Silence

After pounding out a fresh set of nails, finishing the food only took a couple of hours since the supports were already in place. He was lucky that the book had sketches next to the instructions, the place was looking like a proper house. He whiled away another hour mining from the stone quarry, knowing he’d need to sweep thoroughly before placing the floor, but he could at least have the materials ready for after...after…  
The ride to Windhelm was his least enthusiastic yet. He really wasn’t looking forward to this job, even if it was killing a killer and thereby ‘justifiable’. It just...this didn’t feel like guild work. Not what he’d signed up for. Sure he was better with a sword now, but he was a thief, not a sellsword. “Good girl, Snow.” He left his mare at the stable in Windhelm, just in case.  
Probably not a great sign that he was planning that way. He’d done what he could, with his armor, sharpened his sword and loaded up with potions. Had a few bottles of stew, just in case this took long. Maybe Mercer would relax if he had a good meal?  
He spared Brandy-Mug farm a wistful glance as he passed it. Toiling as a farmer might not be glamorous, but you didn’t fear for your life overmuch, just the harvest. He was sure he’d be bored to tears in a matter of days, but at least he’d have days. No- stop it! This was a job with the guild master, he’d be fine. Everything was going to be okay. But the thoughts wouldn’t quite leave him alone as he passed Hlaalu farm and then Hollyfrost farm. Chickens and goats, growing things...he missed his bees. Hell, he’d only been walking for an hour and he already missed his horse, and not just for the lack of walking, but the companionship of another living being.  
He moved to walk along the shore, seeking a good place to cross and summoned a flame atronach for the first time when he heard the roar of a bear. It was...beautiful. And seemed to be just as protective of him as Fenrir was. Maybe thats just how conjured summons were? Eventually, further north he found a spot where things were somewhat frozen over. It’s probably be his best bet for crossing, and he took his damn time testing footholds and his balance. He was decent enough with conjuring flames now that he’d probably survive if he did fall in the water, but he didn’t want to waste the time getting properly dry again, or be in below-freeing water. There was another bear at the small island in the middle of the water, because that was exactly his luck. He clambered up a decent sized rock after summoning the atronach again, not wanting to damage his armor with the local wildlife before going on a manhunt with Mercer. The ice on the other side of the island didn’t quite make it to the other side of the river, and he was more then a little grumpy about having to return to the first side. Maybe he’d have better luck further north.  
Nope, the river only widened as it progressed to the ocean. He’d have to either cross partially in the water or massively double back all the way to the city. He removed every stitch of clothing and his armor, carefully balancing that and his pack on his head after downing a water breathing potion and resist frost to better his odds. Cold didn’t even begin to describe the shock of the water hitting his skin, he was sure he’d never be warm again. Coming out of the water nearly had him falling over, numbed limbs unable to feel the ground he was walking on. He blasted a nearby branch with flames that he’d already picked out before attempting the short cross, and did his best to warm up properly. He heated a vial of the soup he’d brought with him, getting warm inside and out was his best bet.  
It was an hour before he was redressed and ready to head out again, and he cursed himself for being so stupid about that crossing. Never again.  
Helping a peddler and his horse fend off a bandit felt good, up until a bear got the better of the peddler. Cloud decided he might as well take the horse the rest of the way to Snow Veil Sanctum, it wouldn’t make it on its own.  
Encountering a frost troll really was the worst of luck. Cloud leapt from the horses back and called his atronach in a mild panic before slathering poison on his blade. He must have been backing up too far towards the meeting spot, because the next thing he knew Mercer was right there slashing at the damn thing. Lucky Cloud. “Good. Your finally here. I’ve scouted the ruins and i’m positive Karliah is still inside.”  
“You saw her?”  
“No, I found her horse. Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of it...she won’t be using it to escape. Let's get moving, I want to catch her inside while she's distracted. Take the lead."  
Cloud was taken aback “You want me to lead?” Mercer’s reply was all sarcasm and authority "I'm sorry, I was under the impression I was in charge. You're leading and I'm following. Does that seem clear to you?"  
He nodded numbly “Understood."  
“Just make sure you keep your eyes open. Karliah is as sharp as a blade. The last thing I need is you blundering into a trap and warning her that we're here." His bad feelings intensified, this didn’t feel right at all. And why had Mercer even wanted Cloud here for this? He probably should have mentioned this job to someone, anyone else, or tried to ask not to be in on it. This was so far outside his skill set it was laughable. “Keep your eyes open, and your mouth shut.” Cloud couldn’t help feeling a bit bad for the horse as they passed it. It seemed a bit excessive to kill the poor thing, but then, he’d never been in Mercer’s position. What would he have done, if it had been Muiri who killed Asbjorn? They were hardly as close as they used to be, but his childhood friends was the closest he could come to relating to Mercer’s situation. Despite Mercer’s orders to keep his mouth shut, he couldn’t help asking, hoping it would better his odds with the upcoming encounter “Tell me about Karliah."  
Mercer hummed in thought as they walked down the stairs. “She was a stubborn Dunmer... always had to do everything her way. But she was the best... bringing in more coin a month than some thieves heist in a year. Gallus trusted her too much and I let her get too close."  
She sounded amazing. “So, they had a relationship?”  
"If you want to call it that, yes. Me? I think she was softening him for the kill. Gallus would call her his ‘little nightingale.’ He was absolutely smitten by her."  
“Why did she kill him?”  
"Greed? Jealousy? Spite? Who can say what drove her to such an iniquitous act. One thing's certain. I intend to find out before she draws her last breath." He had no doubt of that, Mercer was terrifying in this moment. The blood at the top of the walkway and in front of the doors didn’t inspire confidence.  
"They say these ancient Nordic burial mounds are sometimes impenetrable. This one doesn't look too difficult. Quite simple really, I don't know what the fuss is about these locks. All it takes is a bit of know-how and a lot of skill. That should do it. After you." He’d barely even fiddled with the door before it gave the ‘click’ of a successfully picked lock, and Cloud was beyond impressed. Maybe after this was over, he could ask him for a lesson. It was dark, and the stairs lead further underground. “Karliah’s been through here. What does she expect to find?” Cloud hated leading, he felt like he was being judged on his cneaking abilities. He’d spent next to no time underground in places like this, and it had unnerved him badly. Mercer’s disgusted noise almost had him jumping out of his skin “The stench in here... this place smells of death. Be on your guard." He’d kind of been thinking the same thing, but hadn’t Mercer placed an emphasis on being quiet? Why was he so chatty- oh. It was just Cloud he wanted to be quiet. The urns had some nice finds in them, and Mercer didn’t seem to mind Cloud poking around. A flawless amethyst and smattering of gold was almost enough to distract him from the draugr on the floor, until two sarcophagus opened up and let out two active ones. “So it begins,” Mercer lept into action first while Cloud summoned aid, readying his own sword. Mercer didn’t say anything disparaging about his sword skills, maybe he was getting better then he thought at this. “Pull the chain over there, and watch out for the spikes. Looks like Karliah reset all of the traps." Mercer ordered as they entered the next area. Cloud gulped at the spiked gate, that would be a bad way to die, and walked carefully around the defeated draugr littering the floor. If Karliah had managed to take these all down on her own, they really were in trouble. He pulled the chain and sidestepped nearly to avoid the incoming wall of death, eyes wide “Shit…” If he hadn’t been warned, that definitely could have taken him out. Sneaking past more draugr that could have been either sleeping in wait or inactive lead to a small alcove with a locked door. He didn’t want Mercer to think he was inept, and the lock ws only adept, so he went for it. He only broke one pick, but apparently hadn’t impressed Mercer “Must you keep stopping?” Well, excuse the fuck outta him, he’d never been in a place like this before-...well, the catacombs in Whiterun’s hall f the dea were kinda similar, but still!  
Cloud carefully set off the bear traps safely, in case they needed to do a hasty retreat. They’d barely rounded the next corner before another draugr approached “Your life is mine!” Mercer charged it, and Cloud seriously wondered why he was the one leading the way.  
What was the point of keeping his mouth shut and his eyes open if Mercer was going into fullon battle mode every time they encountered an undead? One of the bodies fell back on a tripwire and set off a fire-trap, and Cloud facepalmed at the ridiculousness of it all. He more provided support and slashed at the backs and sides of opponents while either Mercer of his own atronach kept their attention. A scourge introduced him to his first taste of ‘shouting’, an ancient nord art he knew precious little about but he fancied that he could almost understand the words behind the draugr’s attacks.  
Pulling another chain opened the way to descend even deeper, and another gaggle of draugr. How had Karliah managed to sneak past so many of them? The next locked door was only an apprentice lock but he still broke a pick on it. He chalked it up to nerves, he knew he had better skills than that. A fair smattering of gold, a ring and two potions, but his momentary high was demolished when he looked into the next room. "Bone chimes... clever. Rigged to wake the draugr I'd bet. Don't blunder into any of them." Yeah, no shit. He took two side-steps to swipe the potions and copy of Three Thieves, sure that someone at the guild would appreciate a copy, before pulling the chain and leaving the trapped room behind.  
How deep did this go? He could see at least three active draugr in the next room and was doubting his ability to get through this. He’d already used a fair amount of his potions, and that was with Mercer and his summon taking the brunt. Maybe he should invest in some combat training. He watched as his flame summon glided into the frey, slightly mesmerized by its grace, before trying to sneak around and get in a few good hits of his own. Something summoned a frost atronach, and his eyes went wide at the differences between his and theirs, “Your blood will adorn my blade!” Wow, Mercer was...really into this. Cloud was panting as he downed another magicka potion, his weak healing magic draining his meer stores far too quickly “This...is...insane.” The skeevers were damn near a nice change of pace, and something even he could dispatch easily enough. Adventurers were clearly insane, who would do this voluntarily, much less for a living? “Karliah always was a nimble minx. Slipping past the draugr must have been child’s play for her.” Damn he wished she was on their side, he wanted to learn to be that skilled. The platform above and overlooking where they’d just been fighting was filled with oil and lantern ‘bombs’ just waiting to ruin someone’s day...and there was an obvious treasure on top of what looked to be a pressure plate. He edged around the room first, collecting the four potions and gold out of the urns before standing as far from the treasure as he could, snatching it, and backing up as fast as possible as the pressure plate set off the trap and flames exploded. The ext set of doors seeed to open to the sanctum itself, and Cloud opened them hesitantly, hairs on the back of his neck standing up and feeling in his gut that something was wrong.  
Sneaking past the sleeping draugr was fine, but the one pacing up and down a hallway had Mercer charging yet again, leading to two arising from their slumber to join the fight. Cloud wearily summoned his flame atronach yet again, wishing he was powerful enough to summon both the fire spector and Fenrir. But she was more powerful against these undead; all undead hated fire, and he needed every advantage he could get right now. At least one of Mercer’s weapons had the enchantment for absorb health, and he couldn’t help but be a bit jealous. Enchanting was a skill he’d never even considered, but maybe he could commission it from the mage’s college, ince he’d finished getting his homestead in order and didn’t have to worry about his finances as much. The fight must have drawn some attention from upstairs, the next time he looked up from casting a quick spell there were five draugr instead of three. Afterwards, Cloud stepped neatly over the wire handing with boens to first one locked chest and then the other, filling his loot and eyes going wide at the rare find of some enchanted armor. Even if he didn’t know any alteration magic, it’d still fetch a gorgeous price. Cloud was feeling almost merry as he pulled the next chain and sidestepped another trap, this one an obvious pressure plate on the floor. “We’re on the right track. She’s been through here as well.” How could he tell? Cloud knew he didn’t personally have any tracking skills to speak of, but there didn’t seem to be any evidence another person had been this way. There was an active draugr just a few feet away, how could she have slipped past that? The burnt corpse in the corner of the stairwell had him gasping quietly. Gods, what a way to die. There was another at the top of the stairs, next to a downed draugr. What had burned them? A trap? “That door up ahead...looks perfect for an ambush. Be ready.” He summoned, and quickly downed a potion before cautiously pusing it open, ready to fall flat to the floor or dart out of the way. O-Kay, Karliah or someone else had to have been here, to put the pots in front of the door like that. He winced, hard, as them breaking from being knocked over very obviously woke up the dead lying in wait “Shit…”  
The draugr death overlord was the most difficult to kill off, but it happened to drop an ebony sword Cloud was quick to pick up. There being several other draugr to kill off hadn’t helped, and Cloud ended up sitting down for a moment as he downed potions, feeling dizzily high off of the overuse of magic and overconsumption of said potions. A copy of Ice and Chitin was resting on the alter in the middle of the room, quickly shoved into his pack for later. The chest at the top of the platform had the real goodies; 274 gold, a steel helmet of illusion and adept robes of restoration. He’d be sitting pretty after selling those off. In front of the chest, at the back of the room was an oddly decorated wall, and he stopped to inspect one of the engravings “Zun…” Mercer’s irritated voice dragged him back to reality, and he hurried to pull the next chain and enter another area. Just how big were these places anyways? He disabeled another three bear traps as they approached what looked like it might be a door, but it was bizarre. There were three rings and a forked impression at the center. Mercer approached it and sounded almost bored. “They say these ancient Nordic burial mounds are sometimes impenetrable. This one doesn't look too difficult. Quite simple really, I don't know what the fuss is about these locks. All it takes is a bit of know-how and a lot of skill. That should do it. After you." Cloud had just enough time to notice the skeleton resting on steps with a smattering of stone before he felt a hard punching sensation in his chest “Uh…” his vision went funny as he hit the floor, briefly blacking out. He couldn’t be sure how long he was out, only that he’d rolled over at some point. Gallus was talking to a woman walking down the stairs-Karliah? “Do you honestly think your arrow will reach me before my blade finds your heart?”  
“Give me a reason to try.”  
“You're a clever girl Karliah. Buying Goldenglow Estate and funding Honningbrew Meadery was inspired.” She sheathed her bow, and stood before Mercer calmly. This...was so bizarre.  
“To ensure an enemy's defeat, you must first undermine his allies. It was the first lesson Gallus us.”  
“You always were a quick study.” Karliah crossed her arms, tone becoming angry.  
“Not quick enough. Otherwise Gallus would still be alive.” Wait...what? WHAT?  
“Gallus had his wealth and he had you. All he had to do was look the other way.”  
“Did you forget the oath we took as Nightingales? Did you expect him to simply ignore your methods?”  
“Enough of this mindless banter!” Mercer drew his sword and dagger “Come Karliah, its time for you and Gallus to become reunited!” She pulled out a potion and disappeared into the air “I’m no fool Mercer. Crossing blades with you would be a death sentence. But I can promise the next time we meet it will be your undoing.” Mercer sheathed his sword and walked back over to an immobile Cloud, who could only look back at him. “"How interesting. It appears Gallus' history has repeated itself. Karliah has provided me with the means to be rid of you, and this ancient tomb becomes your final resting place. But do you know what intrigues me the most? The fact that this was all possible because of you. Farewell. I'll be certain to give Brynjolf your regards." He couldn’t even scream as he was stabbed. Faintly, he mused about how odd a sensation it was, hot pressure and then...nothing. It didn’t hurt deeper like he thought it might, it was almost like being punched insanely hard after the brief cut. He felt his blood leaving him and the effect of Mercer’s drain life enchantment, then...nothing.

It was cold. Cold inside, cold on his skin, cold as the ice and snow and wind--  
Wait…  
He forced himself up, gasing at the muted pain and vision blurry/  
"Easy, easy. Don't get up so quickly. How are you feeling?" Her voice was soft, hypnotic even, but it had the opposite effect on Cloud who wanted to bolt, vision suddenly coming into focus. “Hold on... you shot me!”  
Karliah scoffed lightly "No, I saved your life. My arrow was tipped with a unique paralytic poison. It slowed your heart and kept you from bleeding out. Had I intended to kill you, we wouldn't be having this conversation."  
“Why save me?” He hated how softly it came out, but the Dark Elf didn’t seem to notice, understandably bitter regret laced her tone. "My original intention was to use that arrow on Mercer, but I never had a clear shot. I made a split second decision to get you out of the way and it prevented your death."  
That wasn’t….really an answer to his question. “Why should I believe you?”  
"Without the antidote I administered, you'd be as still as a statue. I treated your wounds and didn't leave you defenseless. The poison on that arrow took me a year to perfect; I only had enough for a single shot and yet I used it on you. All I had hoped was to capture Mercer alive."  
“You should have shot Mercer instead.” He spat it out bitterly, wounds aching and still reeling from the betrayal of the man who was supposed to be hus guild leader.  
"I promise you, the thought crossed my mind. The poison on that arrow took me a year to perfect; I only had enough for a single shot. All I had hoped was to capture Mercer alive." In the back to his head, he was impressed at the dedication of her alchemical skills. “Why capture Mercer alive?” He’d killed the previous leader, surely a life for a life-  
"Mercer must be brought before the Guild to answer for what he's done. He needs to pay for Gallus's murder."  
Alright, fair enough. Ask a stupid question… “How will you prove it now?”  
Karliah paced the snow as if it could ease her frustration "My purpose in using Snow Veil Sanctum to ambush Mercer wasn't simply for irony's sake. Before both of you arrived, I recovered a journal from Gallus's remains. I suspect the information we need is written inside."  
“Well, what's it say?"  
“I wish I knew. The journal is written in some sort of language I've never seen before. Enthir... Gallus's friend at the College of Winterhold. Of course... It's the only outsider Gallus trusted with the knowledge of his Nightingale identity."  
At Cloud’s questioning look, she elaborated "There were three of us. Myself, Gallus and Mercer. We were an anonymous splinter of the Thieves Guild in Riften. Perhaps I'll tell you more about it later. Right now, you need to head for Winterhold with the journal and get the translation. Here, take these as well, they may prove useful for your journey." Just sitting up had his wound protesting, and head spinning with after effects of poison. “I...I can’t.” Karliah took in his condition and seemed to notice his age for the first time. Cloud glanced at his surroundings, at the poor damn horse Mercer had slain, and was thankful he hadn’t brought Snow with him to the meeting place. That damn just in case...but then, the merchant’s horse he’d abandoned when the frost troll had attacked would be damn useful right now. He didn’t know how far he could walk on his own, but then, Mercer would have either slain that one too or used it for his own.  
Karliah had work to do here. Laying Gallus’ remains to rest, preparations… Since it was going to take a bit of time, they compromised. Cloud would go home and rest there until either he felt up to traveling to Winterhold on his own and meet her there, or Karliah would meet him at Lakeview if he hadn’t arrived yet. They briefly poked at a map, agreeing on routes so they wouldn’t miss each other.  
Walking back to Windhelm’s stable was a minor agony of slow movement and exhausting his restoration magic skills. He stuck to the easiest incline and leaned on Fenrir from time to time, not daring to cross the water in his condition. There were a pair of horkers as he approached the north-eastern dock but they didn’t seem to care about him. He climbed the rocks and stone carefully to get fully on the dock and wondered why He hadn’t though to take this way up to Snow Veil Sanctum...didn’t matter now. “Hi mister! Would you like to buy some flowers? Please?” He glanced down at the child just exiting the city gate and gave a mute nod-- depending on what she had he could make a potion or polluce for himself with it. Lavender, and all three mountain flowers...yeah sure, what was 22 gold to him? She could use the sale. “Thanks...thanks for talking to me.” He hadn’t even said a word, but he knew what she meant. He hadn’t shoved her out of the way, or demeaned her for trying to earn her way. Hell, in another life, that could have been, was, him. Selling what meager scraps he’d managed to salvage from the land.  
He went from the dock gate to the front gate, ignoring how silent the city was. Not his problem. “How do you feel? I think you might be sick.” He shrugged off Arivanya’s question, he just wanted to see if his horse was still...She was. Right where he’d left her. He leaned against her side, arm thrown over and hugging her lightly as she nickered.  
Getting up on her hurt. Riding hurt. Skooma only took the edge off, and he was considering the sleeping tree sap. Casting another long healing spell had him at the edge of his magicka, and it was going to be a long day or horseriding. Encountering a Khajiit on the trail with a bag full of skooma, sleeping tree sap and moonsugar had him shelling out the gold quickly. Cloud felt lucky that Fenrir took care of the wolves on the road, and cursed himself for ‘feeling lucky’ when he saw the familiar armor “Really, again?” The argonian charged in, and Cloud didn’t even remember summoning his atronach. He crouched down on some nearby rocks to get off of his horse and tried to breathe through using a bow. Fucking Mercer, dammit that hurt.  
Getting back up on his horse after taking the assassin’s sword and note as macabre trophies was a little easier with the rock as a stepstool.  
His luck bounced up again when he ran into a small group of stormclocks just about the same time he ran into a bear, and thanked them for their help as he continued down the path. Another Argonian charged him on the road, but he was fairly sure they were just an opportunist this time. Not nearly as hard for his atronach to roast, and no note on them. No telling armor either. It took all of Cloud’s willpower not to stop in Riverwood that night. But he knew he probably wouldn’t be able to get back up again, and this wasn’t where he was meant to be.  
Besides, Riverwood meant he was almost...almost..  
“Home.” He slid off of Snow after over ten hours in the saddle and trudged into the walls and roof, sitting on the floorless foundation. He had no plans of getting up again either, summoning Fenrir after drinking the sleeping tree sap and hoping for a long dreamless sleep.


	11. Hard Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud spends a few days recovering at his homestead. He ends up adopting a dog on the road, bumping into an old friend and falling into their bed before infiltrating Calcelmo's tower.

Hard Answers

“...mom?” Cloud woke up confused, disoriented and stiff. There was a fizzle noise of the flame atronach leaving this plane of existence, but the heat generated remained. Cloud took his time sitting up and getting his general bearing back. Right...Mercer. Stabbed, poisoned, betrayed, Karliah...what a damn mess.  
Sweeping out the foundation took most of the morning of him leaning against Fenrir, and laying the flooring after forcing down some food took way longer then it should have. “Least I already had the nails done.” The front door was the last full step to having the house done, and it was well into dinnertime when he finished attaching it. He let Snow graze for now, and tucked into another cold meal of his own. He’d try his hand at getting a bed and cooking space put together after he finished dragging his chest inside. “...out of wood. Great.” At least the mill was close, and his horse could pull it and if he cut the wood himself and did a little work it wouldn’t cost him anything ‘cause Hern and Hert were nice and good neighbors and- “You think you can take me?!” A pair of necromancers charged towards him from around the bend of the path. All things considered, they went down easy, but between his encounters with draugr, his fancy new ebony sword and decent magic, maybe it wasn’t all that surprising.  
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look a little sickly.” Hert certainly wasn’t wrong. Sleeping had sort of helped, and he’d been abusing his healing spell, but he didn’t feel great. “I’ll take it easy once I get back. Promise.” She patted his head as she headed back to work, and he had to bite back tears at the casual kindness. The last time someone had been physically kind to him had probably been that awkward hug with Absjorn when he’d been getting taught to make nails properly. It felt like a lifetime ago.  
Taking a shortcut back to the homestead had him encountering a trio of wolves outside a shallow cave with a dusting of whitecap growing, along with a bloodied abandoned wreckage of what looked to be a woodcutter’s cart. The chest had a flawless amethyst, 69 gold and a scroll of harmony inside. Odd loot for a woodcutter, but he’d take it. It was very much past dark by the time he finished assembling the bed, but it was a decently nice looking piece of furniture. He’d pop into town for the bedding tomorrow, a step up from the floor was already really dang nice, and he curled up with his copy of Better Lock Design in hopes that he could have an actual lock on his door tomorrow.  
Waking up the second morning felt a bit better. Maybe it was mostly not sleeping on the ground, but he only had an ache instead of an active pain, and even then only when he was moving. It was a little strange, to wake up in a place that was just ‘his’. The Homestead guide made the cooking stove look fairly easy to put together...and it rather was. The feeling of accomplishment from cooking breakfast on it was even better. “Guess its time to stop putting it off, huh?” He asked his horse, Snow, before hitting up town for some more basic home supplies. Grey Paine good had most of what he was after, and he picked up a few other odds and ends from Grave Concoctions.  
Having a second bowl for Fenrir probably wasn’t really necessary. Filling up some of the empty space with firewood and straw? That felt great. Having proper bedding was even better. Spending hours chopping was both a test of how he was feeling, and a way to get his mind off of things. Tomorrow...tomorrow he’d head back up to Winterhold. Gallus’ Journal was a heavy weight at his side, and he’d tried to look at it a few times but it was hard to even tell the letters apart much less decode it. For now, he’d move some of these stones and make a little fence, maybe craft some tools for the little garden he’d been thinking about for the last week. It was almost the middle of Frostfall now, not a terrible time to plant some snowberries and leeks. Maybe some potatoes and carrots. He should probably hold off on the wheat and tomatoes til spring, and he wasn’t sure how to start apple trees. Probably getting too far ahead of himself. Working the soil felt good. This place was nearly perfect, and he was loath to leave it. Tomorrow morning, bright and early. With Mercer on the loose hed have to watch his back for the rest of his life, he couldn’t risk it.  
What he could risk was dipping to the pond between his property and Pinewatch; and he roasted a mudcrab with his flame spell. Crab for dinner tonight, cooked on his own little cooking pot. “The view’s nice.” He whispered to Fenrir, who had humored him by looking interested in the bowl of water Cloud had set for him. “Could get used to living here, maybe.” First, he’d need to ensure he had a life to live. The small stack of books next to his bed had been the final touch to get this place feeling like his own. He’d be back if he could help it.  
“Yes yes, I know, it’s early and wet and cold and you don’t want to.” He patted Snow gently. He hadn’t missed four-thirty in the morning, and apparently early mornings felt the same way about him. The rain was almost enough to have him say ‘fuck it’ and go back to bed...but it had already been three days. He’d rather Karliah didn’t show up at his house, so he needed to get a move on. The horse ride was remarkably uneventful until he passed M'aiq the Liar on the road nearly three hours later and saw an assassin charging him. It had been a few days, but it was almost boring at this point. This was the...sixth? One that had come for him. Getting passably-murdered by Mercer had taken the edge off of their threat. He took down a cave bear just north of Mixwater Mill and marveled at how far he’d come over the last few months; from barely able to swing a dagger and only knowing how to summon Fenrir, which had taken most of his magic; to taking down a freaking bear with the same skills. The ice wolves outside Windhelm were stronger then the regular wolves he was used to. It figured, he supposed, that things had to be stronger to survive up here in the cold.  
Ice wraiths had to be the fucking devil. Near invisible, he was sure his atronach’s fire was the only thing that saved him from being another victim.That, and the courier on the road ahead of him had been its first target. He rode past Fort Kastav as quickly as he could, the damn place was overrun with either bandits or mercenaries, and several of them were throwing magic. Best not to tempt fate. He leisurely snacked on some snowberries as he rode down the path, thinking it was odd they grew so well in the ice. They really were quite tasty. Passing a guard on the road was his first hint that he was now in Winterhold proper, even if he wasn’t to the city just yet. He could make out a large tower, and if memory served, that had to be the infamous college of winterhold. A dark elf charging him turned out to be a cultist, and had Boethiah’s Proving on him. The book was a fascinating read, and he finished it just as he entered the main city. It seemed Daedra worship was even more active in Skyrim then he’d been taught to fear; though considering that he’d already had contact with two Princes, he wasn’t truly shocked. Maybe he’d humor the book and see if there really were people in the mountains near Windhelm if he ever wanted an adventure.  
Another bear sat on the path between him and the city proper, a snow bear judging by the size and fur. He had no doubt that if he’d tried to go straight to Winterhold on his own, before taking the time to rest and heal some, that it would have finished him off easily.  
Winterhold was a sad fucking town. Over half of it was skeletons of buildings that hadn’t been repaired. He tired the Inn first, since it was one of the first buildings that wasn’t a ruin. He felt a little bad about not finding a proper shelter for Snow, but she was a sturdy horse, and had a good coat. She’d be fine, so long as a storm didn’t kick up. There was a slightly ominous discussion between the owner of the Inn and a mage, something about a horrendous smell and miscalculations...yeah the college’s reputation was well earned. “Just say the word if you’d like something to eat or drink.” Haran said as he walked past towards an elf that matched the description he’d been given by Karliah. “Yes, yes what is it?” Cloud looked around carefully and spoke softly “I’ve been sent by Karliah.”  
“Karliah? Then she’s finally found it. Do you have Gallus’ journal?” Enthir flipped through the pages chuckling. Cloud didn’t see what was funny about the journal being written in bloody Falmar. His shoulders slumped at finding out he’d have to go to Markarth to get the materials to translate the journal. “Great.” Markarth was on the other bloody side of Skyrim, and while he’d made good time getting here it was already three in the afternoon. He’d be lucky to even get to Whiterun at a decent hour. Getting charged by an Orc seemingly out of nowhere an hour back onto the road wasn’t doing him any favors. It made only slightly more sense after he found the skooma on the corpse; the guy must have been high out of his mind.  
High out of his mind sounded like a pleasant diversion, so he drank one of the vials. Tingly. Galloping back past the occupied For Kastav was only slightly less nerve wracking a second time. At least it was only arrows whizzing past him this time. Batteling Ice wraiths and wolves wasn’t at all how he’d thought he’d ve spending his evening, and when an Inn came into view near dusk he seized the opportunity. The small dock, nets and lines revealed that the Nightgate Inn specialized in fishing. Fish sounded great right about now. The inside was damn near empty, and hearing “The beds and beer are both lousy, Hadring you ask me.” From Fultheim wasn’t the boost he’d wanted. The innkeeper apparently had a long-term orc renting his basement. Some sort of writer. Not that Cloud cared, so long as there was a room open for him. He had to fight down his disappointment at the lack of doors yet again. Maybe the Bee and Barb was different from most Inns, seemed everyone outside a major city didn’t bother with the damn things.  
He woke up feeling well rested at three thirty, and bought breakfast to help while away time until dawn. He probably could travel now, but he didn’t want to risk his horse because he didn’t see something in the road, and have her break a leg. Snow was very nearly exactly where he’d left her, nosing at some tall grass and looking well. “Hey there. Ready for today?” Fort Dunstead was also occupied so Cloud circled it, wondering what the heck was going on with the world right now that so many of the outposts were no longer under control. “Why’d it have to be spiders?” He’d encountered several of them now on this road, all the same size or near enough as fen and of the frostbite variety. Apparently they were plentiful in this part of Skyrim.  
Seeing a dog on the side of the road had Cloud climbing down from his horse. He’d ended up following it before he knew what he was doing and...oh. Oh no. The dog had led him back to a small shack and…”Sorry buddy. I can’t help him.” The presumable owner of the dog and shack was no longer among the living. A nearby journal solved the mystery, he’d passed from rockjoint. “...do you want to come with me?” The dog seemed overjoyed at the prospect. He didn’t live at the guild anymore, and his house already had a dog bowl…”Come on Meeko. You can keep Snow company at the stables.”  
Cloud was starting to feel like he had his own proper crew. Taking down a group of bandits was actually manageable with a horse, hound and atronach. It’d be even better if he could get good enough with conjuration to summon both the flame being and Fenrir. The saber cat just outside Rorikstead wasn’t too difficult either, and Cloud was starting to feel pretty good about his most recent life choices when he dismounted at the Markarth stables. “Okay Meeko, stay with Snow. Stay.” The stables here raised war dogs anyways, no one would give his new companion a second glance out here. The city was as dark and dank as ever, and Cloud took a moment to stop by and leave his usual offering at The Warrens before stopping by the Hag’s Cure for the heist job he’d picked up from Vex what felt like a lifetime ago. He’d just reached for the door when “...Muiri?”  
“Cloud?” She seemed shocked to see him, but no more so then he was to see her “I thought you were in Windhelm?” Her eyes darkened and she glanced at the ground “...do you have time to talk?”  
They ended up back inside the shop after she let Bothela know Cloud was an old friend. “Oh, the courier boy. He’s a good one.” O-kay, cool, nice to be approved of for a change. Murir’s story was sad. He and Asbjorn had hoped that after getting adopted, things would be good for her. Apparently everything had been fine until a few days ago...coincidently the same day Cloud had been nearly-killed by Mercer. So that was why Windhelm had been quiet, no wonder. He kind of wished he’d stopped to investigate now, maybe if he’d been there he could have been the shoulder for Muiri to cry on instead and she wouldn't be in this predicament now.  
“Friga was killed recently. Murdered... I met Alain in the tavern while I was... drinking my sadness away. He was handsome, and charming. He said I was the "beautiful lily" of his dreams. Alain made all the pain just... go away. But it was all lies! Alain used me. He ruined my name, destroyed my friendship with the Shatter-Shields... Do you know why Alain was in Windhelm? He heard about Friga's murder. He wanted to befriend the family, in their grief... and rob them blind. Alain used me to get close to my friends. And now they all think I'm some kind of... monster. Alain Dufont took my life. I was Tova’s daughter. Nilsine and Friga’s sister. But they refuse to believe my innocence. No matter what I say. Couldn't they understand that I was used? That I was grieving for Friga, too? No... they treated me like garbage, threw me away.” At ‘murdered’ he pulled out the alcohol, and when she’d laughed and downed it easily, he’d been ready to pour her more. By the end of her tale he wasn’t sure if she was joking when she asked “Got anything stronger?” He’d pulled the skooma out and they both had a bit “...I have moon sugar. Sleeping Tree Sap too.” She giggled at him “Courier eh? Sounds more like your a dealer.”  
He shrugged, unsure if he wanted to tell her he was a common theif. He hadn’t told Asb either, and somehow he didn’t see the point. Now that things had gone so badly sideways with the guild “Couriers deliver all kinds of things.”  
Bothela had left for the tavern a little while ago, and when Muiri pulled him to the bedroom he didn’t dissuade her. She was still grieving, and wanted a bit of comfort. He could do that. “I never should have bedded a stranger, but he was a Breton too, like us...help me forget.”

He pocketed the copper and ruby circlet after he was sure Muiri was going to stay asleep. Maybe he’d pop back in if his main job here didn’t take too long, but he had to say goodbye before he left either way-- and oh fuckshit what would Muiri think if she found out he’d come here to steal after that story she’d just told him?...yeah, he’d spend the night and hopefully Bothela would discover the theft while he was still there. No thief would actually stick around, it should clear his name, and he had a decent poker face now...he’d circle back and put the stolen item in his saddlebags just in case, so he could be ‘searched’ before leaving. If it worked that way. He left the gold, he didn’t even really want to steal from the apothecary to begin with, it was just an assignment.  
Understone keep hadn’t changed. Not that he thought it would. Taking the badly maintained path to the left lead to a rough workstation and a grumpy man hovering over the alchemy table. “What are you doing here? The excavation site is closed. I don't need any more workers or guards."  
“I was looking for you actually-”  
"I told you I'm not hiring any more guards. Why do you people always bother me when I'm trying to finish my research? You idiot. Do you even know who I am? The most recognized scholar on the Dwemer in all of Tamriel, and you people keep bothering me! I... I'm sorry I... I got too excited. I'm in the middle of some very... stressful work, and I shouldn't have yelled. How can I help you?" Cloud blinked, lightly dazed by the tirade “I hear you're the authority on ancient Falmer.”  
"Then you were well informed. I am at this very moment on the cusp of completing my magnum opus on the subject. I'm calling it "Calcelmo's Guide to the Falmer Tongue." It will revolutionize the way we understand those ancient beings."  
Perhaps I could view your work?  
"Preposterous! That research represents years of personal toil in some of the most dangerous Dwemer ruins in Skyrim! You must be mad to think I'd allow anyone to see it before it's completed."  
“But I’m a great admirer of your work…” Even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t going to work. What good even was the masque of Clavicus Vile? He pretended to leave and doubled back, lifting the key from Calcelmo’s pocket before leaving for real. “Halt. The Dwemer Museum isn’t open to anyone without the court wizard’s permission.”  
Cloud held up the key “I’ve been allowed.”  
“Oh...carry on then.” Gods guards were dumb. It could have been any key-well, he was watching, but Cloud was already unlocking the door and heading inside. Once through the doors, he snuck around the guards carefully, slightly worried by their conversation. What traps took out an entire team?! The room on the left had one of those stones of Barenziah and the chest that seemed to be the centerpiece of the room had a flawless amethyst and an enchanted glass helm. Score. He edged around the two patrolling carefully and entered into the laboratory a minute later. Something was whirring, and he could see the oil slick on the floor. Traps...he’d need to be triple careful. Calcelmo’s nephew, Aicantar, had left a journal next to an odd rod. Apparently he could control the metal spider with the rod and intent, not unlike conjuration magic. It really was fascinating, but not what he was here for. He pocketed some odds and ends as he explored, careful to avoid the Wizards’ guard. He found a laboratory key on a nightstand and smiled. Luck was on his side today. He downed a pair of invisibility potions to help get past some of the guards, they really were thick in here. He knew he had to be close when he saw someone dressed just like Calcelmo, and then a small alter with a true prize, a dwemer puzzle cube. If he ever saw Delvin again, he knew it’d mean a major payday. The nest door had him on a balcony overlooking the city proper and for a moment he wondered if he’d missed it, if he’d fucked up...but there were stairs to his right, and then the tower. No one being in there had him nervous after all the guards in the previous area. He swiped the grand soul gem and potions around the room, then finally found the prized stone tablet that was the translation guide. Carefully, he took charcoal and scrolls from the workroom and made a rubbing before storing it carefully in his pack. No sooner was he done then the doors opened, and a pair of guards walked in “If there is a thief, he won’t leave this tower alive.” Shit, ooooh shit…  
He edged around the side carefully, going for the ledge. Three of them, and standing to block the entrance. Hanging by his fingertips, he did his best to drop silently. He was so close to them...but they hadn’t heard. He edged backwards and sideways, eyes on them as he neared the door and edging it open.  
No way was he going to go back through the museum, that had been too damn close. There was a narrow path that led to the waterfall...and he lept, landing in the deep water behind the forge.  
It was just past three when he crept back into the Hag’s Cure and into Muiri’s bed. She sighed and rolled over to embrace him. It felt amazing to be held gently like that, even if he had no intention of pursuing anything with her. Just a few hours of resting his eyes, he told himself. A few hours of simply breathing in the scent and warmth of another living being that cared for him, and then he’d spend all damn day traversing the country again to try to reclaim his life. Maybe after things were sorted, he could come visit again. Friends with benefits wasn’t the worst idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't have my writing day this week, we lost a cat to a car accident. I couldn't not adopt Meeko after that. Posting six minutes past midnight is close enough to still being a Wednesday post, right?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping to update this every Wednesday. Its weirdly relaxing, replaying this game and imagining Cloud in this world. Most of the plot is outlined, it'll be fairly skewed towards Skyrim but other FF and KH elements will appear much later in the story.
> 
> ...theres HOW many quests in this game?!  
> I need a nap.


End file.
